A Parent's Gift
by Tantris
Summary: The Heralds of Valdemar have their gifts, but they also have families. As much as their gifts, the parents of Heralds have much to do with the character of the Chosen. Some are better at raising children than others.
1. Chapter 1

A Parent's Gift

At the ringing of bridle bells and the chime of a Companion's hooves, Tavener Gill looked up from the ledger he had been working. His heart sank at the sound.

The riderless Companion strode calmly into the foreyard of his house. Eight times before, the dazzling white creatures had claimed a son or daughter. Of Tavener and Marcia's nine children, only Daffyd remained.

Although Widrin, his third daughter, had warned him at Midwinter that Daffyd had Heraldic gifts, Tavener had hoped that he would be allowed at least his youngest son to remain with him and Marcia as they grew old.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. Looking up, he saw his wife smile ruefully. "Let us go out." She said. "Let us go out and give our son our blessing."

"Aye." Tavener replied. "I've seen the look on his face when his older brothers and sisters came home to visit. He wants this, though it breaks my heart – our hearts - to see him go."

Hand in hand, the two of them went to the door and out into the yard. A crowd of Tavener's servants and workers were already gathering to see who the Companion would choose. None of them, however, were of a likely age to be Chosen.

The sound of small running feet in the passage to the mule yard brought the Companion's head up. Daffyd dashed breathlessly into the fore yard. With a purposeful stride, the Companion marched towards the boy, who stopped transfixed as it approached.

The Companion lowered its head and the two stared into each other's eyes for a long moment. A joyous smile spread across the boy's face as he caressed the Companion's head.

Those surrounding the two waited, scarcely breathing, while the Companion and the boy silently formed the bond that would last the rest of their lives.

At last, Daffyd looked up from the sapphire eyes. "Her name is Avia." He announced to the cheers of those around.

Forcing a smile to their faces, Marcia and Tavener went forward to congratulate their son. Marcia hugged the boy fiercely while tears ran down her cheeks. Tavener wrapped his arms around them both. He was happy for his son and proud that the boy was worthy to be a Herald. Still, he sorrowed that he and his wife would now be alone at their meals except for the fleeting days when their children would visit during a break from their training and duties.

Marcia released Daffyd and held him out at arms' length. "Quickly, now," she said, "we must not keep Avia waiting. Let's get some clothing for your journey to Haven."

Briskly, she marched her son off to the room he had once shared with Jamis and Payne, the two next youngest sons.

Tavener was left standing with his hand on Avia's silken neck. He looked around at his employees. "Enough. We will have ale and a feast this evening to celebrate Daffyd's choosing. Be sure to bring your kin. For now, back to your duties."

Cheering at the announcement of the celebration, the assembled group went back to work with smiles, leaving Tavener alone with the Companion. With so many Chosen in his family – and his own experience at White Foal Pass – Tavener had no doubts about the intelligence of Companions, so he did not think of Avia as 'a pretty white horse.'

Regarding her with a wistful smile, Tavener said "My dear, you and your fellows have taken all of our chicks now. For you and them, I wish you naught but joy." Tavener winced slightly at the thought of his eldest, Janika, who had been captured by the Karsites on her first circuit and burnt to death with her Companion.

"I ask you to take care of my son and bring him home as often as possible. Bless you both and keep him well."

_::I will do as much as fate permits:: _The feminine voice spoke into Tavener's mind. _::But we know no more of the future than you.:: _Tavener was surprised, aware how unusual it was for a Companion to speak to anyone other than her Chosen – and how doubly rare it was for a Companion to speak to a non-Herald.

"That promise is enough, My Lady." Tavener replied. "But my heart aches to see my last child go away."

_::If it is a consolation to you.:: _Avia said. _::Raising nine children worthy to be Chosen is a special gift of its own. In your own way, you and Marcia are as much a treasure of Valdemar as your children. Rolan has commissioned me to ask if you and Marcia would be willing to take in orphan children with Heraldic gifts who are not yet ready to be Chosen.::_

Though stunned by this request, Tavener did not hesitate. "I would be honored to do so. So, I am sure, would Marcia. But I must consult with her first on this. You will have our reply in a fortnight."

_::Done.:: _Avia said. She blew a sweet breath in Tavener's face. The scent evoked a sensation of blessing in Tavener.

Tavener turned at the sound of his wife and son approaching. Daffyd chattered excitedly about the journey to Haven and seeing his older brothers and sisters at the Collegium.

Three years before, Tavener and Marcia had taken their five children who had not yet been Chosen on a visit to Haven to see their older brothers and sisters and the capital city. (Payne and Widrin had been Chosen at the Palace gate and not returned home.) At least Daffyd, having seen the city, would not be intimidated by the size of it when he arrived. With five of his older brothers and sisters still at the Collegium, he would have the company of family to help him settle in.

Daffyd had changed into riding breeches and boots for the journey. The same ones, Tavener noted, that Jamis and Romir had worn on their earlier journeys to Haven. Though prosperous, Tavener and his wife were economical, seeing no reason to discard something so long as it was useful.

Taking the saddlebag with changes of clothing from Marcia, Tavener slung them over Avia's back and attached them behind the cantle. The cook brought out a pouch of fruit and water flask and fastened them to the front.

Marcia released her son. Tavener bent down and hugged the boy. "You keep safe, son. And work hard. We are proud of you."

Daffyd pulled back and looked his father in the eye. "Dad, you and mom are the best. I'm sorry you are going to be alone. I wish you could come too."

The boy's thoughtfulness brought tears to his father's eyes. "Your mother and I will come to see you before Sovran." Tavener promised. "Maybe when you come home to visit, you will have another brother or sister to tell about the Collegium." Out of the corner of his eye, Tavener saw Marcia's startled look. Avia winked at him over the boy's shoulder.

Standing up, he lifted the boy by the waist and placed him in the Companion's saddle. "Get on your way now. There is a waystation a few candlemarks north of Three Rivers. Avia will have no trouble getting you there before dark."

The Companion pivoted and pranced in place as Daffyd waved goodbye to his parents, who embraced each other and waved back.

"Give our love to your brothers and sisters!" Marcia called out as Avia cantered down the lane to the road. Daffyd waved one last time as he and the Companion vanished around the bend.

Alone in the yard, Tavener and Marcia held each other, finding comfort in their joined sorrow.

After a long embrace, Marcia moved back. Holding her husband at arm's length, she asked "Now what was that about another brother or sister?"

Tavener told her of what Avia had asked. Marcia scoffed. "We have lived as husband and wife for over twenty years. You should know me well enough by now. You should have told her 'yes' immediately."

Tavener smiled at her scolding. "My dear, I had no doubt you would agree. But it was still polite to ask you first."

"Thank you, love. We will send our reply immediately. I don't want to wait to have another child in this house."

"If they are awaiting a Companion, we won't have them long." Tavener pointed out.

"If they are worthy of being Chosen," Marcia replied, "they will be as wonderful as our own children. Even a short time with such younglings will be a joy."

"Aye." Tavener agreed, releasing her. "I will go and write the letter now. I think it would be best to address it to the Dean of the Collegium. I think Widrin said his name was Tuck Chester. We can both sign it and send it to the Herald resupply station in Three Rivers. It should be in Haven in a sennight."

Marcia nodded. "I'll go fetch Billy Malker and have him saddle a mule. He can make the journey to Three Rivers and back before dinner, so he won't miss the celebration."

The letter was completed and off in half a candlemark. Tavener returned to his ledger while Marcia set about organizing an impromptu celebration.

Tavener and Marcia endured rather than enjoyed the celebration. They joined wholeheartedly in the toasts to Daffyd and Avia and all of their children, cringed behind forced smiles when Martan Stone toasted the memory of Janika, made sincere thanks for insincere complements, heard petitions to consider ne'er-do-well relatives for jobs if a position became available, accepted the quiet congratulations of the few friends who sincerely cared about them, and otherwise kept the food and refreshments flowing far into the night.

One biddy – Billy Malker's mother, if Tavener's memory was correct – proclaimed her certainty that they must be the best parents in Valdemar to have produced such a brood of young Heralds. Half a candlemark later, Tavener overheard her proclaim to another of the local gossips "It baffles me that such a money-grubber could have so many children become Heralds. He must have given the Collegium a great deal of money to take them if you ask me. My Billy is as clever as any of them and he's not been chosen."

Tavener rolled his eyes and walked on as her fellow gossip agreed.

At last, the celebration ended and the guests returned to their homes (and those too drunk to stagger home were bedded down in Companions' Hall.) Tavener and Marcia retired to their bed.

As they got under the covers, Tavener joked "I understand that we have bribed the Collegium to provide Companions for our children."

Marcia smiled back. "I heard that you had somehow blackmailed a nobleman over some dark secret."

They both chortled over the rumors, then Marcia went on. "San and Kell Thorne have invited us to dine with them tomorrow night; they feel the same loss we feel."

"With all three of their children gone to Healers' Collegium, they would understand." Tavener replied. "Still, I envy them."

"Why?"

"At least their children will be safe as Healers."

Marcia kissed her husband. "Do not be so sure. You remember where we met?"

Tavener remembered the healers' tent at White Foal Pass, where he was treated for battle wounds and Marcia had served as an ungifted healer.

"Yes?" Tavener waited for her to explain.

"One did not have to be gifted to feel the fear that the Healers had of being captured. Healer Ilea told me that the Karsites would force captured Healers to heal Karsite wounded until the healer collapsed of exhaustion, then they would burn them just as they burned captured Heralds."

"Ah!" Tavener agreed. He kissed his wife and, with their arms around each other, the two fell asleep.

The reply to their letter came less than three sennights later. The letter from Dean Tuck thanked Master and Mistress Gill and warned that a youngling would be brought to them within a few days. Near sunset on a blustery day, the ringing of bridle bells and the chime of a Companion's hooves once again sounded in the foreyard.

A Herald rode the Companion. The Herald was a young man of around thirty years, extremely fit though slender of build. His face was thin with a pointed chin and he had a scar on his right cheek running from his prominent cheekbone to his jaw. His hair was dark brown and his thick eyebrows met above his nose, forming a line across his brow.

Seated pillion behind him was a boy of six or seven years. The boy's haunted eyes stared at the buildings around him. Tavener thought there was some resemblance between the Herald and the boy until he noticed the boy's flaming red hair curling out from under his cap.

The Herald dismounted and helped the boy to the ground. The boy clung to the Companion uncertainly.

Tavener and Marcia, who had waited impatiently at the window of his office, strode out briskly to greet the Herald while the rest of the household gathered round.

"Tavener and Marcia Gill?" The Herald asked. At Tavener's nod, the young man went on. "I am Herald Coram and this is Blane Truewald. I am bringing him to you for fostering at the request of Dean Tuck.

"Blane, this is Master and Mistress Gill, who will be your foster parents. They will care for you until you are grown."

Solemnly, Blane looked up at Tavener. "Thank you, Master Gill, for taking me in. I will work hard for you."

Tavener knelt down and took the boy by the shoulders. "You are welcome in our home, Blane. We will be glad to share our table with you. I am sure you are a good worker – and we will help you to keep that admirable trait – but here you will be family with no more chores than our own children once had."

"Once had?" Blane looked even more apprehensive. "What happened to them?"

Tavener smiled. The child was sharp to have noted that he had spoken in the past tense. "See that big white horse?" He said, pointing to the Companion, who blew a snort of disgust at being called a horse. "Some of his brothers and sisters came and Chose our children to be Heralds."

The boy's eyes widened. "You mean I could be a Herald?" He threw a worshipful glance at Herald Coram.

Marcia joined her husband and embraced the boy. "That lies with the Companions, Blane. They alone can make that Choice. For now, our home is empty and we hope you will help to fill it. Please come in and stay with us."

Blane nodded and took her hand. She led him into the house.

Tavener rose and looked at Herald Coram. "So what is his story?" He asked.

"The boy's parents were killed by house robbers in Three Rivers a moon ago. The boy escaped through a window into the forest near town. I was called back from my leave to help the search for him. The road guard found him three days after the robbery. He helped identify the robbers at the trial.

"Before I was Chosen, I was best friends with his father when I lived in Alderscroft. I have known the boy all his life. As all his other relatives are gone, I am the closest thing he has to family. Since the trial, he has been with me and the mind-healers to help him through his grief." Coram reported.

"And he has grieving yet to do." Tavener added. "Marcia is a good listener and can help him when he wants to talk. It will be good to have a child in the house again; he will comfort us as we will comfort him.

"Living so near Three Rivers, we had naturally heard of the murders, but I did not know the family. Master Truewald traded in much different goods, so we never met. After losing his parents so horribly, the boy will need much care."

The Herald extended his right hand to shake Tavener's. "Thank you, Master Gill, for this service to Valdemar." He glanced up at the darkening sky as thunder rumbled in the distance. "May I stay the night with you? I think it will help Blane to settle." He handed Tavener a packet of papers. "Here is more information about the boy which may be useful to you."

As Tavener took the papers, a bolt of lightning struck nearby and the first drops of rain began to fall. "I'd not let you leave in this weather. Even by Companion, you would be soaked before you got to the resupply station in Three Rivers."

"Thank you." Coram replied. "I bring some other matters to discuss with you as well."

"I rather thought you did." Tavener chuckled.

"How did you..." Coram began.

"Your posture and bearing while I greeted Blane told me you wanted to get on to other matters. You don't need a gift to see that, you just have to pay attention to people. Any good merchant has that skill."

Coram blushed and grinned. "That touches on one of the things I wanted to ask you." Lightning flashed again and more raindrops fell as the wind began to rise.

Tavener held up a hand. "Enough for now! Let us get you and Companion…"

"Krias." Coram supplied.

"…Krias inside." Tavener gestured towards the doorway to Companions' Hall. "Come this way."

Tavener led the way to the tall door and held it open for Coram and Krias to enter. Coram hesitated "Are you sure you want Krias within your house?"

Tavener waved them on impatiently. "Both of you come inside, you will see. Don't wait for the storm to break."

Coram shrugged. He and Krias followed Tavener into the house. The door was easily tall and broad enough for the Companion. Coram thought that it would even be possible for a Herald to ride in without ducking.

Once inside, Coram looked around the large room which was lit by lanterns in sconces along the wall. The room had white plaster walls and a high cross-beamed ceiling with more lanterns hanging down from the center. A plain wooden table surrounded by simple chairs stood in the middle of the room. The table was very long with places for twenty widely-spaced settings. The floor was covered with heavy burlap laid over stone. Behind the chairs, canvas covered mattresses lay between the chairs and the walls.

"Companions' Hall." Tavener announced. "I had it built after my third child was Chosen. Since my children often brought their yearmates home as holiday guests, I built it to accommodate more than a dozen Heralds and Companions."

He pointed to two passageways that led off the room at the far end. "There are bedrooms along each of those hallways. Each bedroom has a stall attached for a Companion. The stalls have doors to the outside that lead out to a field reserved for Companions. There are bathing rooms and indoor privies between the two hallways. There is also a 'privy stall' and a bathing stall for the Companions' use. All of the doors and handles can be opened by a Companion." Tavener nodded at Krias as he made this last remark.

Gravely, the Companion bowed his thanks.

With a look of astonishment on his face, Coram stared at Tavener. "Not even the palace in Haven has such accommodation for Companions. I thank you, sir, and Krias adds his thanks as well." The Herald laughed suddenly. "Krias says he really, really likes you and hopes to visit often."

Tavener grinned proudly. "I will not have half my guests shunted off to a common stable, sir. I know what Companions are. Aside from the fact so many have attached themselves to our family, one of them saved my life two days before Lavan Firestorm brought hellfire down at White Foal Pass." As he said this, Tavener noted a slight twitch on Coram's face. He resolved to ask the Herald afterwards why the name of Lavan Firestorm brought that reaction.

He drew himself up and faced Krias. "In this house, Milord, you are an honored guest and your company is treasured."

The Companion bowed his head in graceful acknowledgement.

"Dinner will be served in a candlemark. Please refresh yourselves and join me and Marcia and young Blane here. I look forward to seeing you both at dinner. There is a selection of sheets and blankets for Companions in a closet beside the stall. You will find ones suitable for all weathers."

He gestured towards the passageways. "Now go and make yourselves comfortable. I will see you at dinner."

Tavener watched Coram and Krias go down the left passageway, then left the room through a door to the rest of the house.

Two candlemarks later, after a full meal in the Hall, Coram sat with the Gills as they exchanged stories. Tavener and Marcia learned that Coram had been mentor to Padrik, their second child, on his training circuit. Coram had been visiting his own family in Alderscroft when the call had come to care for Blane.

Krias lounged on the mattress just behind Coram, having been served barley and oats in a stoneware basin along with a second basin filled with clean water and a bowl of wine beside that. The offer of the wine had surprised Coram almost as much as Krias' acceptance.

_::Just because you never offered me wine, doesn't mean I don't appreciate it.:: _Krias tartly told his Chosen. Coram had made a note to remember to get wine for the stallion when he bought a bottle for himself in the future.

_::Just let me do the choosing of the wine.:: _Krias had added_. ::Your taste in wine is execrable.:: _Coram had to explain his sudden choking spasm to his hosts.

Blane, who sat between Coram and Marcia, had eaten until he was full, occasionally interjecting questions about the Companions of their children. The boy was evidently as fascinated by them as any other Valdemaran child. Now, the boy had pushed his chair back so he could stroke Krias' neck while the Companion munched on hay.

Marcia could see the boy was close to falling asleep. Rising, she took Blane's hand. "Come along, child. Let us get you to bed."

Coram bid the boy good night and watched as he left the room. Turning to Tavener, he began. "As to those other matters I wanted to discuss…"

Tavener held up his hand. "Hold. I have a feeling this involves Marcia as much as me. We will wait until she returns.

"In the meantime, I would like to ask why you reacted as you did when I mentioned Lavan Firestorm."

Herald Coram drew a deep breath. "I suppose the easiest way to begin the explanation is to give you my full name. Coram Chitward."

Tavener's eyes widened. "You mean as in Lavan Chitward Firestorm?"

Coram nodded. "Exactly. Lan was my first cousin, son of my father's brother."

Tavener felt an atavistic thrill of fear run up his spine. "Are you a firestarter too?"

Coram shook his head. "No. I have a gift for moving small things with my mind." A glass slowly levitated from the table and returned to its place. "Together with a gift of Sight, I can manipulate things in hidden places or behind walls. It is limited to about twenty armslengths, but useful for things like opening locked doors when necessary. I sometimes work with healers moving bits of bones or holding things in place inside a person they want to heal without cutting into them. I also have passable mindspeech that allows me to speak to another Herald a few miles away."

"I can see how those would be useful gifts." Tavener commented, encouraging Coram to go on.

"Lan was Chosen when I was just eleven. His Companion, Kalira, was cousin to Krias. Her sire, Satiran, and Krias' sire Tasiran, were twins. I sometimes wonder if Krias chose me for that reason.

The Companion snorted. _::It wasn't for your taste in food or wine, heart-brother.:: _Coram smiled and reached back to stroke Krias' head. He repeated the remark to Tavener, who smiled. Through his children, Tavener was aware of the teasing that went on between a Companion and his or her Herald.

As Marcia returned, Coram launched into reminiscence of his cousin. "I did not know Cousin Lan well. He was just enough older than me that we did not mix as children, although I saw him fairly often when Uncle Archer and Aunt Nelda still lived in Alderscroft. He was Chosen after they moved to Haven and I saw him only one more time at the Midwinter Feast at Uncle Archer's home in Haven. You should have seen that feast! I was just old enough to sit in the main hall instead of with the children. Lan very neatly silenced a blowhard uncle who opined that Heralds were just fancy occasional judges on pretty white horses. At the end of the meal, I nearly choked with laughter at his twist of the knife when he made his toast."

Coram raised his glass and mimed a toast before quoting. _" 'I would like to toast my family. For without your actions, I would not be where I am and what I am at this moment.' _Lan had been the family black sheep up to that moment: Rather pointed to as a bad example and shunned more than welcomed, so I knew exactly what he meant._" _ Coram explained.

Coram chuckled at the memory. Tavener grinned. "Aye, often the black sheep turn out to be the family jewel."

Coram went on with his story. "After that, we returned to our own home in Alderscroft and I never saw him again.

"We heard about the Great Trial in the Palace Square, of course, which was the first any of us knew of Lan's gift. Then there was the War with Karse and Lan went to the border.

"The first stories that came – the immolation of the Demon-Masters and the routing of infiltrators – were incredible enough, but when we heard of the Great Conflagration of the Karsite Army, no one could speak of anything else.

"It was a bit uncomfortable for us. We were feted as the Hero's Family, but we hardly knew him in reality.

"When Krias came for me four days after the news of White Foal Pass reached us, my mother became hysterical, terrified that I would end like Lan. It took a full candlemark before she could be persuaded to let me go."

Once again, Coram reached back to stroke Krias' cheek. Glancing back at the Companion, he added softly. "Few men know their fate before the end, of course, but I would not give a moment of my years with Krias even if I knew I faced an end worse than Lan's."

_::Nor would I foreswear a moment of the time with you, heart-brother.:: _The stallion replied.

Turning back to his hosts. "Enough of memories." He nodded to Marcia. "Mistress Gill, your husband bade me await your return before I broached the other business I brought to discuss. As he rightly guessed, this would involve you as much as him."

He eyed them both. "You are rare among Valdemar's people. You are prosperous merchants, almost wealthy, and at the same time, closely attached to the Heralds through your children."

Marcia nodded. "You mean we see both sides of that particular coin."

"Exactly." Herald Coram agreed. "To put it bluntly, Heralds tend to be somewhat ignorant and prejudiced when it comes to merchants. They tend to think of 'profit' as a dirty word and those who pursue it somewhat lesser people, suspect and possibly dishonest.

"They also imagine that merchants merely sit and gather crowns and coppers, never doing an honest day's work."

He pointed to the Gills. "You, on the other hand, know that successful merchants must work long hours – far longer than any of their employees – and with no certainty that a venture will bring them gain."

Tavener smiled. "Considering that your Aunt is now Grandmistresss of the Cloth Merchants' Guild, I think you would be the logical person to explain differently to the Heralds."

Coram rolled his eyes. "Aunt Nelda is a prime example of everything Heralds dislike about merchants: Grasping, ambitious, and somewhat ruthless. She really did mourn her son, but she also didn't hesitate to use her relationship to win status and rank."

He went on. "The other half of the problem is the merchants. People such as the uncle I mentioned who think of Heralds as some sort of fancy ornament riding around on 'pretty white horses' and giving themselves airs."

Now Tavener rolled his eyes. "I've met plenty like that, and not just among merchants. I'd say a good third of our own employees think that I purchased the rank of Herald for my children."

He grinned wryly. "Although I can't imagine how any who have seen the inside of a waystation could think of a Herald's life as some kind of luxurious pageant."

While Coram chuckled at that, Tavener continued. "I can see how that is a problem, but what are you asking that Marcia and I do about it?"

"There are too many merchants to show them all what a Herald actually does." Coram began. "But Dean Tuck wants to send groups of Herald Trainees who are in their final year to spend a moon with you and see what a merchant actually does. He wants them to understand the nature of trade and how a business is run. He wants them to see how you make deals and plan and organize a business.

"Not only would this give them a better understanding of commerce, it will prepare them for field investigations when they involve matters of trade."

Marcia spoke up. "So you would send them to live and work with us for a moon? They couldn't learn it all in that time, of course, but I can see how it would improve their insight into trade. How many Trainees would you be sending and how often?"

"Generally, there are ten to twenty trainees in their final year at any time. We would like to send them in groups of six to ten at a time, together with a couple of the Senior Heralds to oversee and mentor them and see that they kept up their other training and studies while they were here. So you would probably have three groups of six to twelve trainees and mentors plus their Companions visiting you for a moon. The visits would be spaced over the year."

Coram mistook Tavener's raised eyebrow for skepticism. "The Crown would reimburse you handsomely for your time, of course."

Tavener snorted, but it was Marcia who spoke. "Of course we will do this." She said. "And the money is not important. Tav and I would love to have the company of smart young people, even if it is only for three moons a year."

"Aye." Tavener agreed. "We have already felt the loneliness since Daffyd left. I'd begun to wonder why I was continuing to build my fortune when there was nothing to do with it and no one to leave it to."

He leaned forward. "Dean Tuck's letter did say that Blane and those who follow him were likely to be Chosen, did he not?" At Coram's nod, he went on. "So, it is not as though we will have a fosterling to inherit our home and property."

"Why not?" Coram asked. "Surely you could adopt a child to be your heir?"

Tavener snorted again, much more loudly than before. "Think, man. How would it feel to be a child brought into a house who had to watch his fellow fosterlings granted the boon of a Companion? To see his brothers and sisters get a lifelong soulmate while he was just brought in to take on the family fortune?

"I saw the hunger and worry in Daffyd before Avia came for him. To a lesser extent, I saw it in all of the others after Janika was the first of mine Chosen

"No, I will not bring a child in to that situation and let him twist with envy."

Coram nodded in acquiescence. _::I wish all the Heralds who think merchants are heartless money-grubbers could have heard that speech.:: _Krias told his Chosen.

Coram felt the need to inject a note of caution. "There is no guarantee that Blane or any other fosterling we bring will be Chosen. Plenty of promising children – even the children of Heralds – are never Chosen. They have to have a gift and they have to be 'right' in the Companions' eyes. Even the Heralds do not know what it is that the Companions see when they make their choice.

"All I have been told is that those we bring to you have the potential to become a Herald."

_::You need not worry for Blane.:: _Krias mindspoke Coram_. ::He has several Gifts that should manifest in a few years and a good character. Our hosts have the heart and good sense to help that character mature and grow strong.::_

_::He will be Chosen.:: _Coram felt relief at Krias' reassurance.

The Gills looked at one another. Tavener put his hand over Marcia's. "Then we will have a child to raise as our own heir. Either way, the Will of the One shall be fulfilled. We are not troubled by what time may bring."

"Since you agree, I can fetch the necessary Crown contracts from my saddle bags." Coram began.

"Do not be silly." Marcia dismissed him. "We know Heralds are as good as their word. The paper is unnecessary."

"As is the money." Tavener agreed. "We have built a fortune enough. Even if our children had not been Chosen, we would have had enough to send them out into the world to begin very comfortably with plenty left for our remaining years. There will be no charge.

"Besides," he added shrewdly, "I suspect that your bright young lads and lasses will have more than one idea that will earn me a great many crowns."

All three of them chuckled.

The evening drifted on with Tavener and Marcia exchanging stories of their time at White Foal Pass and their own children's adventures for Coram's tales of his travels as a Herald. All of them, including Krias, had just enough wine and finger foods to pass the time pleasantly. (To Coram's amusement and Krias' delight, Tavener invited the Companion to make the choice of vintage.)

When Coram yawned a third time, Krias got up from his mattress. After bidding their hosts good night, the Herald and Companion went to their beds. _::I am definitely going to recommend to the other Companions that they seek a reason to stop here when traveling.:: _Krias told Coram as he bedded down in his stall.

"You just enjoyed the wine." Coram retorted, snuffing the lantern beside his bed.

_::At least I have a good palate.:: _Krias snapped back. _::You would drink goat piss offered in a cup.:: _

Only Coram's snores answered.

Coram woke in the morning to the smell of fresh kava. The first light was filtering through the shutters and he could hear Krias munching in the stall next door.

_::Hmph. About time you were awake, sleepyhead. If the stableman hadn't brought me feed, I would be starving. The breakfast bell has already rung in the Collegium.:: _Krias' tone hinted that Coram was woefully slothful.

"If you recall, I was pulled out of my leave time for this assignment." Coram said to the white shape of the Companion, just becoming visible through the half door as the room brightened. "I still intend to relax a while."

_::If it hadn't been for our host insisting you stay, you would have been wakened a candlemark ago in the guard barracks in Three Rivers from a cot in the Herald's quarters. Actually, I believe you would have been on the floor, since there are already four Heralds there and all the cots are taken.::_

_::Speaking of our host, he has been in his office for some time already.::_

"Ugh." Coram retorted. "I suppose I better follow his good example for the benefit of young Blane."

_::You should. Besides, they left a full breakfast just outside your door just before you woke. Better get to it before it gets cold.::_

That prompted Coram to get up. He fetched the tray carrying a full country breakfast – eggs, ham, sausage, fresh biscuits, porridge, honey, jam, milk, preserved fruit and hot kava – from a shelf outside the door. With the hearty appetite of a fit young man, he quickly polished it off, then went to the bathing room where he shaved and cleaned up. (Coram eyed the tub, but regretfully opted for the shower in the interest of speed.)

After donning his uniform, he went looking for his host, whom he found reading over the papers concerning young Blane.

Tavener waved him to a seat. "I see by these papers that Blane is the heir to several houses and commercial properties in Three Rivers, plus shares in several stock companies. What is being done with those properties and the income from them?"

"I knew Sandor Truewald was well off – he inherited a sizeable estate from his parents and invested it shrewdly. In such cases, the Crown places the properties under an appointed trustee. The trustee is overseen by a review board that sees that the trusteeship is not abused. For Herald trainees who are the sole heirs, the property his held in trust until they are of age and can decide how to dispose of it.

"In Three Rivers, the review board consists of Duke Simeon, Patriarch Motune, and General Chase."

Tavener nodded at all three names. They were, respectively, the direct fief holder, the spokesman for the city temples, and the commander of the garrison of Three Rivers. All three were highly respected men of great personal integrity.

"Who is the trustee?" Tavener asked.

"I haven't read the papers, so I don't know." Coram said. "There should be something in there."

Tavener leafed though several pages before finding a copy of the appointment. At his grimace, Coram asked "Is something wrong?"

"Not wrong." Tavener sniffed in dismissal. "Isador Bales is a completely honest man. A completely painstaking, persnickety, pompous, nitpicking, boring honest man. I doubt he has ever smiled in his life. Everything must be done in the Official Correct Legal Manner. Everything must be Absolutely Correct."

"I take it you dislike the man." Coram offered. "Do you object to his appointment?"

"I can't think of a man who would be more exacting in his duties as trustee." Tavener admitted. "But he is a very difficult man to deal with."

He sighed. "No matter. There will be no need to apply to him for funds for Blane's upkeep."

"But you are entitled to be compensated for your expenses…" Coram began.

"Tchah!" Tavener spat in disgust. "It would cost me more in time and aggravation than the expenses themselves." He looked Coram in the eye. "We took the boy in because we were lonely, not because we wanted – or needed – the orphan allowance. If Avia had not told us a moon ago to expect this, we would probably have been seeking an orphan child on our own by now."

"What happens to the estate if the boy is Chosen?" He asked.

"Once he comes of age, he can bequeath the estate as he chooses. Or have it continue to be held in a guardianship for his own heirs." Coram explained.

"Not all children of Heralds become Heralds themselves. I know of a case where an estate was held five generations before a descendent of a Herald who was not a Herald herself inherited." Coram smiled. "She was a bard. But she did not need to travel or seek contracts or patrons once she achieved Master Bard."

At Tavener's quizzical look, Coram raised an eyebrow. "After five generations of prudent investment, even a small estate grows to a considerable fortune."

Tavener laughed. "I see the fosterage papers are here. Let me fetch Marcia and the boy and get the formalities done with. How many witnesses do you need?"

"As a Herald, I am empowered to complete the formalities without witnesses, but it's better if I have one or two.

Tavener looked out the window; he spied Billy crossing the yard.

Tavener opened the window. "Billy, would you ask my wife to come to the office? Please ask her to bring Blane as well. Also, if you could have the cook and the foreman come."

The man bobbed his head. "Right, sor. Fetch the missus and the new boy and the cook and the foreman." He sauntered towards the kitchen door.

While they waited, Tavener turned back to Coram. "Aside from the matter we discussed last night, is there anything else?"

The young Herald leaned forward slightly. Diffidently he began "Krias tells me that you are planning to visit your children in Haven before Sovran."

Unoffended, Tavener asked "That is true. How did he know that?"

Blushing slightly, Coram replied. "Avia told Krias of your promise to Daffyd the day he was Chosen. I am afraid that Companions are the biggest gossips in Valdemar."

_::At least our gossip is the truth, unlike the tales told by Heralds when they are between the sheets together.:: _Krias' commented archly.

Ignoring his Companion's snide remark, Coram went on. "When you are in Haven, Dean Tuck would like to meet you. He would like to see Blane as well."

Tavener shrugged. "Easily done. I will ask one of my children to let him know when I arrive. We can meet at his convenience. Since Marcia and I will both be there, Blane will naturally come with us."

At this point, Marcia and Blane came into the room followed by the cook and foreman. Marcia seated the boy before taking a chair for herself. Tavener introduced Herald Coram to the cook, Alwyn Dane, and the foreman, Piotr Jeslen. The two witnesses stood behind Marcia's chair.

Coram began the formalities. "I must ask certain questions. These questions will be asked under the Truth Spell, so that all may be assured of the honesty of the others.

He turned to the boy, who was suddenly surrounded by a soft blue glow. "Blane Truewald, son and heir of Sandor and Claris Truewald, you are, by the deaths of your parents, an orphan." The boy's face fell at this stark declaration. "As you are not of legal age, you must be fostered until you reach your majority. As there are no relatives to take you in, it has been proposed that you be fostered with Master Tavener and Mistress Marcia Gill, who are persons of good character and would be your guardians.

"Are you willing to be fostered with Master and Mistress Gill?"

The boy looked solemnly at the Herald, then at the other two. He lowered his eyes and said softly. "Yes, Herald Coram." The blue glow did not flicker.

"Do you have any objection, of whatever nature, to being fostered with Master and Mistress Gill?"

"No, Herald Coram." The blue glow flickered uncertainly.

Repressing a sigh. "Blane, the Truth Spell tells me that you do have some doubts. What are those doubts?"

Blane raised his head. Tears streamed down his face. "I want to stay with you!" He cried. The blue glow returned to full strength.

Marcia started to rise to comfort the boy, but Coram raised a hand to stay her. Speaking softly, Coram went on. "I wish that were possible, Blane. Other than that, do you have any objection?"

The boy lowered his head once more. "No." The word was almost a sob.

"As a fosterling, you have certain legal protections. You cannot be used as a servant, you cannot be mistreated, you must be schooled and raised as if you were a true child of your guardians. You have the right to request a change of guardians at any time and you may appeal to any Herald, judge, sworn lord, bard, healer or officer of the Crown for another foster home whenever you choose. A change of guardians will be granted for any reasonable grounds. You will be visited regularly by a local reeve or a Herald and allowed to talk to them privately. Do you understand that?"

"I think so." Blane said. The blue glow flickered again.

Patiently, Coram persisted. "Blane, I am not certain that you understand what I just said. Please tell me in your own words."

Without looking up, the boy whispered. "Master and Mistress Gill have to treat me right. If I don't like it here, I can go someone else." The Truth Spell was steady as he spoke.

"That is almost true, Blane." Coram spoke softly. "People get angry with each other sometimes. Nobody is happy all of the time. You may not like what Master and Mistress Gill do sometimes and they may discipline you for something you have done. If you want to change guardians, it will have to be for a good reason, not just because you are upset. Is that fair?"

The boy considered it for a long moment. "Yes." He said at last as the Truth Spell glowed around him.

The blue glow around the boy ceased as Coram released the Truth Spell. Now he turned to Tavener and Marcia and set the spell on them.

"Tavener and Marcia Gill, I bring you Blane Truewald, orphan, to be fostered in your home. Are you willing to accept him as a fosterling?"

"Yes." Each of them replied.

"Will you raise him as your own child, care for him, give food and shelter, see to his education, act in his best interests as you understand them, nurture him, protect his rights and help him to grow in all ways?

"Yes." They replied again.

"Do you understand and accept his right to appeal for a change of guardian and agree to allow him free private access to those officials and authorities of the Crown at any time of his or their choosing?"

"Yes."

"Are you aware of any reason or fact that might cause your interests to conflict with the best interests of Blane Truewald?"

"No." They answered.

"Will you give him the love and affection that a parent gives to their child?"

"Yes." Both answered so forcefully that Blane's head snapped up to look at them.

Through all of the questions, the blue glow never wavered. Now Coram released it.

"By my authority as Herald, and based on the statements made under the Truth Spell, I order that Blane Truewald be fostered with Master Tavener Gill and Mistress Marcia Gill until Blane Truewald comes of age or such time as another Officer of Valdemar should order a change." Coram finished formally.

"Now, we can just sign the papers and can get this done with. There are two copies: One for you and one that will be lodged with the review board in Three Rivers."

Coram produced the papers, which were signed by all present. He explained to Blane that his signature only showed that he had been present when the fosterage papers were completed.

Once all were done, the cook and foreman returned to their duties. Coram gave a copy of the papers to Tavener.

The Herald stood with a sigh and said. "Now I must be off. I wish you all the best."

He shook hands with the Gills before bending down before the boy. "Blane, I think you will be happy here. I have enjoyed our time together. I hope to see you again sometime."

Blane looked woeful. He hugged Coram. "I wish you could stay. I know you are a Herald and have to go. Promise me you will visit like you did before…." The boy choked slightly and tried not to cry "…before mama and papa died."

Smiling, Coram answered solemnly. "Any time we are nearby, Krias and I promise to visit you, Blane. Now that your parents are gone, you are more dear to me than ever."

"Thank you, Herald Coram. Could I say goodbye to Krias?"

Though no empath, Coram felt Krias' rush of pleasure at the request.

"Krias wouldn't leave without seeing you. Why don't you come with me and you can visit him while I pack my things and saddle him?"

Tavener and Marcia smiled and nodded. Marcia opened the door for the two, who walked back to the stall where the Companion waited.

She closed the door behind them. Turning to her husband, she said "Tav, I know it is silly to speak too soon, but I already think of Blane as another son."

Tavener rose and embraced his wife. "I was thinking the same thing, Marce. He makes me think of Romir in some ways. He has that same quietness about him."

Blane continued to be quiet as he gradually adapted to life in his new home, although he seemed to watch and make note of everything. He spoke little, but when he did, Tavener was impressed by his perceptive questions.

Tavener showed him the farmstead, where he raised cattle and mules for sale – Tavener supplied mules for the guard – and took the boy to the tannery he owned in the village nearby. The village had grown up as Tavener had added businesses and, at first, had been made up of his own employees. Gradually, others had come and set up their own businesses, but Tavener was still the largest employer. The village had no charter and no name, though some were starting to call it 'Gillhold"/

Blane went to the village school, where Widow Clay taught. She had once been governess of one of the Great Houses in Haven, but had retired after the last of the children had come of age. She was a solid, sensible woman with keen perception and an incredibly broad knowledge. She had a gift for teaching, which she did out of love of children. She claimed to be writing a book on "Courtly Graces."

Within a sennight, Widow Clay came home with Blane after the end of the day's class.

At the sight of her, Tavener bit back the urge to ask if something was wrong. Instead he asked "Welcome, Mistress Clay. What brings you to visit?" although he knew it had to be something to do with Blane.

Widow Clay smiled confidently. Placing her hand fondly on Blane's head, she said "Blane has had private tutors before now, so he is far ahead of most of my other students. He even speaks some Karsite, which I don't understand at all. I would like to move him and Hansal Austrebon into a separate class, so I can give them more advanced work. Also, Hansal would be able help Blane to learn Karsite better."

Hansal's father, Bartram Austrebon, was a Karsite refugee who had fled to save Hansal's sister, Heike, from being burnt for having 'witch powers'. Heike was now training as a Bard in Haven. Tavener had backed Bartram starting a business as a shoemaker and harness maker when they arrived three years before.

"That sounds like a good plan to me." Tavener said. "How do you feel about it, Blane?"

"Please, sir. I would like it very much. I enjoy reading and learning, but I have already done what Mistress Clay is teaching the others. And I like Hansal, too." The last was added as an afterthought.

Widow Clay chuckled at the last. "The two of you are practically joined at the hip, you mean." Turning to Tavener she added. "Blane and Hansal act like two long-lost brothers. From the moment they met, they seemed to be best friends."

She lost her smile and sobered slightly. "It is very good for Hansal, too. Being from Karse, he is sometimes shunned and teased by the others. As if he was to blame for what the Sunpriests do." The last was said with exasperation.

Tavener had seen the slights that some of the villagers gave the Austrebons and he agreed with Widow Clay's exasperation. In vain, Tavener had pointed out that the Book of the One forbade laying blame on the innocent for the sins of their kin.

"If everybody is willing, I see no reason not to do this." Tavener said. He was immediately rewarded by a broad smile from Blane.

"Thank you." Widow Clay said. "I must be off now."

"Won't you stay for dinner?" Tavener invited. Mistress Clay was a welcome dinner guest who had many fascinating stories about life among the high-born and at the court. Her stories were not mere gossip, but detailed explanations of the dealings, ambitions and negotiations among the nobility. Tavener had never heard her say anything that was malicious or repeat what she had been told in confidence. She obviously knew far more than she let on, but did not make leading or suggestive remarks. Instead, she feigned ignorance when Tavener's deductions told him she must have some knowledge of secrets generally unknown.

"Thank you, no." She declined. "I have just received my book back from the publisher. He wants some additions and changes. I have a fortnight to get it back to him and it is going to take every moment of my time to get it all done."

She curtsied slightly and Tavener bowed in response before she turned and walked briskly back up the lane.

Tavener turned back to the still smiling boy. "You will have a visitor tomorrow, Blane. I have a letter from the trustee of your estate, who insists on seeing you."

The boy had had a pony before his parents' death, so Tavener had written to Isador Bales to ask if the pony could be sent to him for the boy's use.

The trustee's reply had been everything that Tavener expected: Pompous, full of niggling details and a long recitation of Isador Bales' powers as trustee, concluding with an Announcement That Master Bales Would Arrive To Inspect The Performance Of The Guardians At Two Candlemarks After Noon On The Third Day Of Corn Moon, When Matters Relating To The Affairs And Care Of One Blane Truewald Would Be Discussed. The letter also said that Isador Bales would insist on meeting privately with Blane.

Blane looked apprehensive. Tavener explained that there was nothing to worry about, the meeting would be routine, though perhaps a little boring.

Isador Bales arrived precisely at the appointed time riding a mule that, to Tavener's eye, ought to have been retired several years ago. The man appeared to be in his fifties, although his pinched face gave him the look of a sour man twenty years older. His lips were tight and his eyes squinted at Tavener as though perceiving some fault. Master Bales' clothes were cut in a fashion twenty years out of style and were worn almost to the point of being ragged or threadbare.

He dismounted and, once Billy had led the mule away, greeted Tavener formally. Tavener reflected that shaking Master Bales' hand was like grasping a handful of wilted greens.

The two went into Tavener's office. Tavener bade him be seated. He offered his guest a beverage. "No thank you." Master Bales said. "I do not mix business and pleasure. Let us proceed to the matter."

The trustee produced a small pouch of coins. "Here is the first quarterly stipend for your guardianship of young master Truewald."

Tavener shook his head slightly. "That is unnecessary. The boy is part of our family. We neither want nor need funds for his keep."

The trustee sniffed. "It is not a matter of your wishes. The Law states that you are entitled to the stipend and it must be paid to you quarterly."

Reluctantly, Tavener reached for the pouch. Before he touched it, Bales put his hand over it. "I require a receipt."

Repressing a sigh, Tavener picked up a quill and started to write the receipt. "What is the amount?"

"Ten crowns."

Tavener completed the receipt and went to hand it to the trustee, who held up his hand. "You must count the stipend first to confirm that I have given you ten crowns."

Tavener blinked. He opened the pouch and carefully counted the ten crowns aloud.

At last, Master Bales picked up the receipt, which he placed in his case. Drawing himself up stiffly, he began. "As to the matter of the pony of which you wrote, I cannot allow that."

Tavener leaned back and looked at the man incredulously. "Why?" he asked.

"It is an unnecessary expense. I cannot allow the estate to be wasted on frivolities." Master Bales sniffed primly.

"Excuse me?" Tavener said.

"I am charged with conserving the Truewald estate. I cannot allow the estate to be wasted on frivolities." The trustee repeated as primly as before.

"The pony belonged to the boy. His parents gave it to him. Presumably they wanted him to have it."

"The boy is not of legal age to deal with property or chattels." Bales retorted. "Legally, he cannot own anything in his own right."

"It was his pet as well as a first mount so that he could learn to ride as is proper for the son of a merchant and gentleman…" Tavener began.

"It is a valuable asset of the estate." Bales interrupted. "Many merchants' sons have neither mount nor leisure to ride one."

Tavener stared at Bales. "So what were you proposing to do with the pony?"

"As it costs a great deal to keep such an animal, it will be sold and the proceeds paid into the estate." Bales replied.

"So you would deprive an orphan of his beloved pony in the name of putting funds into his estate?" Tavener felt his outrage building.

"Affections do not enter into the matter." Bales replied archly. "It is a matter of the proper conservation of an estate."

Tavener closed his eyes and counted to ten. "Very well." He said at last. "How much do you want for the pony?"

"I cannot make a private deal. It must be sold at auction. That is The Law." The trustee pronounced.

"Everything must be sold at auction?" Tavener was aghast. "What about family heirlooms?"

"Unless there is a will or other clear instruction, all of the chattels must be sold. Lands and investments may be held in trust along with any income gained from such. Since the Truewalds' will has not been found, I as trustee must see that the property is managed in the most prudent and economical manner."

From prior dealings with Isador Bales, Tavener knew there would be no deviation from the Prescribed Way.

"Very well." Tavener sighed. "When is the auction?"

"In four days' time, beginning at noon. All purchases must be paid in cash or a letter of credit must be deposited to hold the purchases until cash is received."

"Thank you." Tavener said sourly. "Is there anything else?"

"I must see the boy. Alone."

Tavener nodded. "As you wish. Is this office sufficiently private?"

Isador Bales looked around disdainfully. "I suppose it will do. Send the boy to me immediately."

"I believe Blane has returned from school. I will fetch him for you." Tavener left the room, personally pleased to be away from the irritating man, but apprehensive about how Blane would react to him.

He found Billy and sent him to fetch Blane. Meanwhile, he went in search of Marcia. Quickly, he explained to her about the auction.

"We cannot let the boy lose his family's treasures." She agreed. "We must go to the auction and buy them. We will need him to come to let us know what he wants to keep."

"More than that," Tavener replied, "he is unlikely to recognize family heirlooms such as plate or furniture. Herald Coram knew the family. He might know some of them."

"How can we reach him?" Marcia asked.

"I'll send Billy to the resupply station with a letter. Hopefully there will be a Herald there who can get word to Coram in time."

"Agreed." Marcia said as Blane appeared following Billy. "I will take Blane to Isador Bales. You go write the letter."

Tavener nodded and hurried to their bedroom, where there was a desk with paper and quills. Bidding Billy to wait, Marcia took Blane by the hand and led him to the office, leaving him alone with Master Bales before quickly ordering Billy to saddle a mule for a ride to the resupply depot

She tried to impress the urgency on Billy. "Ye mean he is goin' t' sell the boy's pony?" Billy exclaimed. "That ain't right." Billy, like most of the employees, had already taken a liking to Blane.

In a few minutes, Tavener returned to the yard and handed the note to Billy, who kicked the mule into a gallop and tore off down the lane.

No sooner had Billy disappeared than the office door banged open and Blane ran into the yard screaming "Go away, I hate you!" The boy ran to Tavener and wrapped his arms around his waist. "I won't go! I won't go! I want to stay with you!"

Alarmed, Tavener picked the boy up and held him. Blane's arms gripped Tavener's neck.

"What is wrong, Blane?" He asked.

"He wants to take me away!" Blane wailed. "I don't want to go away!"

Tavener patted the boy's back. "If you do not want to go, you do not have to go, Blane. You are welcome here. Marcia and I won't let anyone take you away."

The boy leaned back in Tavener's arms. "You mean that? You mean I can stay with you Papa Gill?"

Blinking in surprise at being called 'papa', Tavener smiled back. "Of course I mean it. You are our son, now."

Isador Bales was now stalking stiffly across the yard. "Well,": he sniffed, "I suppose the boy is adapting here. Although it seems you are not instilling proper respect for his elders.

"I will report to the review board that he is receiving adequate care, but recommend that they review how you discipline him."

Tavener swallowed the urge to throttle the man. "Thank you for your assessment. We obviously differ on the subject of discipline." He said coldly. "Is there anything else?"

"No, I have done what is required. I will be leaving now. Please have my mule fetched."

Tavener lowered the boy to the ground and handed him to Marcia. "Go with Mama Gill, now, Blane. I think she can get you an apple and some cheese."

The boy smiled at Tavener before walking towards the kitchen holding Marcia's hand.

With a stiff nod, Tavener turned back to the trustee. "I will fetch your mule, myself, Master Bales." He stalked off towards the stable, leaving the trustee standing alone in the yard.

Moments later, he returned with the saddled mule and handed the reins to Bales.

"I wish you good day, sir." He said, shaking Bales' hand perfunctorily.

Bales sniffed, nodded, and mounted his mule. Turning, he rode out of the yard without a word. _May your poor mule find rest in the Havens when you are half way home._ Tavener thought to his receding back.

Four mornings later, Tavener and Marcia walked through the exhibit of the items up for auction with Blane between them. They made careful note of anything the boy said he wanted to keep.

When they got to the stables, Blane spied the pony, a handsome white gelding standing about thirteen hands. With a joyful shriek, "Rolan!", he wrapped his arms around the pony's neck. The Gills looked at each other, trying not to laugh. Fully half the white ponies in Valdemar must be named 'Rolan'.

The time for the auction neared and the Gills began looking anxiously around for Herald Coram. Finally, literally minutes before the auction was to begin, Coram and Krias pounded in at a hard gallop.

"What is going on?" Coram demanded as he leapt from Krias' back. Quickly, as they walked towards the auction ring, Tavener briefed him. Marcia and Blane stayed with Krias.

"I can't stop the auction unless there are grounds to suspect fraud." Coram said. "What do you propose?"

"Just tell me whenever you see something that you think is a family heirloom." Tavener replied. "I will buy it."

"But that could cost you a lot of money." Coram gaped.

Tavener shrugged. "As I mentioned the night you brought Blane, I have fortune enough. Do not worry about the money. Just tell me anything you think is a family heirloom. Even if you are not sure, tell me."

Several candlemarks (and some two hundred fifty-odd crowns) later, the Gills drove their loaded wagon back, with Coram on Krias and a joyous Blane on Rolan riding beside them.

_::I can't wait to tell Rolan about his namesake.:: _Krias spoke playfully to Coram.

_::Please don't:: _Coram replied._ ::I have no desire to take my next circuit in the Holderkin sector.::_

_::Ugh. Neither have I. Maybe we'll keep this between the two of us.:: _Krias agreed.

They returned to the Gill farmstead just at sunset. Tavener handed the wagon over to Billy with instructions to unload into a storeroom it in the morning. He sent Coram and Krias off to Companion's Hall with an order to clean up and come to dinner later. Marcia went to the office to lock up the crowns they had not spent. Tavener and Blane took Rolan to the stable, where the pony was put in a stall beside Fire, Daffyd's small gelding. Blane had been taking lessons on Fire up to now, but Rolan was obviously a more suitable size until Blane grew older and bigger.

As they had two sennights before, they all shared dinner in Companions' hall. After the meditation, Blane stood up. He bowed to his guardians. "Papa Gill and Mama Gill, thank you for buying Rolan from the auction. I love you."

Touched, Marcia replied. "You are welcome, Blane. We are happy to be your new parents. We love you too." She opened her arms. Blane hugged her, then went to Tavener and hugged him as well.

Coram thought he saw a tear leaking from the corner of Tavener's smiling face.

The cook served the meal as before. To Krias' delight, Tavener allowed the Companion to choose the wine.

Blane joined the conversation more often this time, asking pointed questions when Coram told stories about some of the cases he had judged. Coram noted, however, that Blane kept leaning back to stroke Krias from time to time.

When Coram told a story about how he had protected a family of Karsite refugees from a mob of Holderkin, Tavener remembered that Blane knew some Karsite. "How did Blane come to learn Karsite?" He asked Coram.

Coram flushed slightly, glancing at Blane. "My friend Sandor ran a very profitable business importing luxury goods. He specialized in products from Karse, such as Karsite whiskey and spices.

"Nothing illegal." He added hastily, noticing Tavener's frown. "Just that trade with Karse and dealing in Karsite goods is considered suspect by most people. You know the sagum cloaks favored by some of the military?"

Tavener nodded. The heavy wool cloaks were hideously expensive and much sought after because of their ability to shed water, keeping the wearer warm and dry. They were also notoriously smelly, since they were never washed. Washing removed the oil which made the cloaks waterproof and nothing could restore the cloaks afterwards.

"The cloaks are made of wool taken from a breed of sheep native to the Tatras region of Karse, which has the highest mountains in the country. The climate is so cold that the sheep never shed and the shepherds have to comb the fleece out of the sheep's coat without actually shearing them. That is what makes the wool so expensive. Nevertheless, Sandor said that the profit on each cloak was huge."

Coram grinned. "Next time you see a high-ranking officer or nobleman with a heavy, smelly wool cloak, reflect on the fact that he is defending us from Karse while being protected by the work of Karsite shepherds."

Everyone laughed at the thought. Even Blane chuckled.

"Since there is no direct trade with Karse, Sandor had to import through Hardorn. He had to know Karsite to meet his contacts when he went to Hardorn to pick up goods. Sandor thought it useful that Blane be tutored in Hardornen and Karsite."

Tavener looked sharply at Blane. "Do you speak Hardornen also?"

"_Ya, Serren. Eg Hardin spegt o mite."_ Blane replied in that language, then translated. "Yes, Gentlemen, I speak a little Hardornen."

"Why didn't Widow Clay mention it when she said you knew Karsite?" Tavener asked.

"I'm sorry. She never asked." Blane said. "She was just happy that Hansal had someone who he could speak to in his own language. I didn't think to tell her. I didn't mean to…"

Tavener smiled to reassure the boy. "You did nothing wrong, lad. I'll just have to find someone to tutor you in Hardornen. We must not let that skill be forgotten."

"My Hardornen tutor was Charkan Tor. He was a very old man who had retired from teaching in Haven."

"Charkan Tor?" Coram exclaimed. "He was the best tutor in Hardornen the Collegia ever had. He taught the students at the Collegia, King Theran, and all of the Royal family until he retired a few years back. Members of the nobility begged to get their children a place in his classes. You were very fortunate, Blane. How did you get to know him?"

"He rented rooms from papa. Papa agreed to let him pay the rent by tutoring papa and me."

Tavener looked sharply at Coram. "Do you think he would move to the village here? I could give him a house to live in."

"I was one of his students. He will probably remember me." Coram said. "I will ask him on your behalf on my way back through Three Rivers tomorrow."

"I'll give you an offer letter to take with you." Tavener suddenly blanched. "I just realized that, if he was tutoring in exchange for rent, he has probably had to deal with Isador Bales. He may have been forced to move out."

"I will find him." Coram promised.

"Can I write to him also?" Blane asked. "I really liked him and I would really like to have him tutor me again."

"That would be very nice." Marcia said. "I am sure he would be happy to hear from you."

"And it may help persuade him to come." Tavener added practically.

The next morning, Coram took Blane to Widow Clay's house riding pillion on Krias, which greatly impressed Blane's fellow students. He lowered Blane to the ground and Blane politely introduced Coram and Krias to his classmates. Krias was pleased by the pains Blane took to ensure that his fellow students said hello to the Companion.

Coram was ready to go on, but Blane said. "Just a moment. You have to meet Hansal, too." Coram looked around and saw one boy, hawk-nosed and blond-haired, standing near the gate, looking frightened and pale.

Blane spotted the boy and plunged through his fellow students to take the boy's arm. "Come on Hansal, come and meet Herald Coram and Krias."

Coram heard the boy say something about "White Demon" in Karsite as he resisted Blane.

Blane released his friend's hand. Speaking in Karsite, he pleaded "Please, Hansal, would you do it for me?"

Hansal looked once more at Coram and Krias, then gulped and nodded. Fearfully, he walked cautiously up to the Companion.

"Herald Coram and Companion Krias, this is my friend Hansal." Blane said formally. "Hansal, this is Herald Coram and Companion Krias."

"H – h – honored to m – meet you, H-h-herald Co-coram." Hansal stuttered.

In Karsite, Coram gave the most courteous of formal Karsite greetings "I greet you, child of the Sun. May Vkandis bless you and guide you."

The boy nodded his head. "I greet you also. May the Sun's ray ever be upon you." He said, automatically giving the appropriate response. The boy smiled abruptly, then reached out to pat Krias.

Krias gently bent his head to Hansal. _::Hmmm.:: _He said in Coram's mind.

_::You think….:: _Coram queried the Companion.

_::Yes.:: _Krias said as he blew softly in the boy's face. _::Remember that his older sister is already at Bardic and has mindspeech as well as a strong Bardic gift.::_

"Krias offers his greetings as well, Hansal." Coram spoke for the Companion, who continued to focus on the boy for a long minute.

The fearfulness seemed to fade from the Karsite boy's face. He stroked the white muzzle. "Thank you, Krias. I am happy to meet you." Beside his friend, Blane beamed with happiness.

"Well, I must be off." Coram interrupted gently. The children moved back from the Companion. "Blane, Hansal, and the rest of you, study hard. Widow Clay is a good teacher. Krias and I expect you to do your best."

Once clear of the children, Krias moved smoothly into a canter. Coram waved back at the children, who cheered and waved until the Herald and Companion were out of sight.

Coram found Charkan Tor at the address Blane had given him. The tutor remembered Coram and greeted him gladly.

Unsurprisingly, the old man was being harassed by Isador Bales, who was not only demanding an exorbitant rent, he was demanding that the old man produce receipts for the rent during the time that he had been tutoring Blane and his father. Invoking his Heraldic authority, Coram settled the latter quickly enough by confirming that Master Tor had provided tutoring as his rent.

When Coram broached Tavener's offer, Master Tor readily accepted. He was delighted with Blane's letter, which he pronounced to be very well written Hardornen. He agreed he would contact Tavener Gill immediately to make the arrangements to move to the village. When Coram suggested that he also tutor Blane's friend, the old man readily agreed, saying that having two students was actually easier than teaching one.

After leaving the old tutor, Coram made one more stop at the guard barracks attached to the resupply station for a brief meeting with General Chase. By midday, Krias was cantering easily back to Haven. Idly, Coram wondered what his next circuit would be.

The result of Coram's meeting with General Chase played out two days later.

Tavener and Marcia once again waited in the yard as a small procession rode up their lane. In the lead were Duke Simeon and General Chase.

The Duke was a huge man about forty years old with a shaggy beard and a great mane of black hair. His clothing was of very good quality but simply cut, lacking either embroidery or jewels. He sat easily on a huge chestnut Ashkevron war stallion. Tavener guessed that few men had the temerity to cross Duke Simeon, who was obviously no Court Noble despite his seat on the Royal Council.

General Chase was fiftyish and clean-shaven. His short blond hair helped conceal the threads of grey that were beginning to grow. His face had a mild appearance that deceived many. From his days in the army at White Foal Pass, when Lieutenant Chase had been his immediate commander, Tavener knew that the mild appearance was underlain by a sharp mind and a will of steel.

Behind the two, Patriarch Motune rode in a trap pulled by a mule and driven by a monk of his order. The elderly patriarch's hair was completely grey and his face was wrinkled, but his bright green eyes and ready smile were backed by a keen wit.

The Duke and the General dismounted, handing the reins of their horses to their aides. The monk helped the Patriarch down from the trap.

Before Tavener could greet them formally, General Chase gave Tavener a bear-hug and pounded him on the back. "Tav, you old rascal, you are plotting to take over Valdemar! Nine children among the Heralds! And Mistress Watt – I suppose it is Mistress Gill, now – who wouldn't let me out of my bed for a sennight."

Marcia laughed. "You were the worst patient I ever had – wanting to get up and run around with your stomach cut open by a sword." The general gave her a hug.

Turning to the Duke and the Patriarch, General Chase introduced them. "Your Graces, may I present Tavener Gill, who was the finest trooper I had at White Foal Pass and whose good sense helped prevent the retreat from turning into a panic. His wife is Marcia Gill, who served as an auxiliary healer with the army.

"Tavener, Marcia, may I present His Grace Duke Simeon Marduk of Three Rivers and His Grace Patriarch Motune of the Sojourner Temple and spokesman for the temples of Three Rivers."

When Tavener and Marcia went to bow, the Duke cut it short. He shook their hands, proclaiming "Save that nonsense for formal courts." The Patriarch exchanged a courteous nod with the two.

The Duke now took the lead. "As you can guess, this is about the guardianship of young Master Truewald. May we come inside? This should not take long."

The Gills lead the men into the office, where all sat in a circle. The cook brought wine for all but the Patriarch, whom she offered tisane. The Sojourners strictly abstained from all intoxicants, believing them impure.

General Chase produced a pouch. "Here is two hundred fifty seven crowns, four silver and three coppers, which is what you spent to redeem Sandor and Claris Truewalds' heirlooms and young Blane's pony from the auction."

When Tavener looked puzzled, Duke Simeon explained. "That silly ass Bales had the discretion to set heirlooms aside and see that the boy's pony was given to him. He just had to exercise the discretion that the Orphan Law allows." The Duke snorted. "However, Isador Bales lacks both discretion and imagination. It is much simpler to count coppers, read ledgers and fill out reports. Tchah!"

The expression of the other two members of the review board showed that they agreed with the Duke's assessment.

The Duke added. "He told us that you tried to refuse the stipend and got very indignant about having to actually remind you that he needed a receipt." General Chase rolled his eyes at the pettifoggery.

"Actually," Tavener put in, "I am surprised that someone as astute as astute as Sandor Truewald did not make a will."

Duke Simeon looked at him for a minute. "He did make a will." The Duke said at last. "It was sworn before my majordomo."

"We just can't find it." General Chase added. "The robbers ransacked the house. They admitted that they took all the jewels, money and plate they could find. We caught them with the valuables heading towards the Hardorn border.

"But they had no papers with them. We questioned them under the Truth Spell and they said they had not taken any papers, nor had they destroyed any.

"My best men searched the house. We could not find anything."

"Even worse," the Duke finished, "the copy lodged in the Duchy records has disappeared."

"Do you know what the will said?" Marcia asked.

"My majordomo says it left everything to Blane." The Duke shrugged. "They appointed a guardian."

Everyone waited expectantly.

"Herald Coram Chitward." The Duke answered the unspoken question.

Tavener blinked. "Then why is Isador Bales involved?"

"Without a copy of the will, it is all hearsay. Not admissible in Court. No one can say whether the Truewalds did not decide to change their will at a later time. If we don't have a copy, who can say there isn't another will we didn't see?" The Duke asked rhetorically.

"Why are Marcia and I guardians, then?" Tavener asked.

"Coram and I discussed that after Blane had been found and we realized the will was missing." General Chase said. "He is a Herald, with duties to Valdemar and the Crown. It would be difficult, if not impossible, for him to be a good parent while carrying out those duties.

"Coram said that Sandor and Claris understood that and appointed him guardian for the purpose of finding good foster parents for Blane. This apparently dovetailed with plans that were being made in Haven, which is why you are appointed guardian and the actual estate is managed by Isador Bales, who is irritating but honest enough to see that Blane's financial interests are protected."

"However, Isador Bales did make a complaint about the boy being improperly disciplined, so we are obligated to investigate that." Patriarch Motune said apologetically. "So we will need to see the boy privately to examine the complaint. Would you please bring the boy to us?"

General Chase held up a hand. "Just a moment. One more thing before we see the boy. I haven't had time to brief their Graces on this as yet, but my agents in town have brought me a report that may indicate a problem."

He looked at the Gills sharply. "Have either of you ever heard of a man called Ancar Kriegmangal? "

Tavener and Marcia shook their heads.

"I have." The Duke said. "He's been up in my court on various charges, including smuggling, possession of stolen property and rape. I've never had enough evidence to convict him, though. I think he's a vicious little bastard. Comes from Hardorn, says he's some nobleman's illegitimate son."

"I have also heard of him." Patriarch Motune added. "I am sure that he has committed rape. But since my knowledge comes from the confessions of others, I cannot give any evidence."

General Chase digested the other's comments. "The rape charges are relevant. The information from my agents is that he is claiming to be Blane's true father. He has hired Turin Bales – brother of the trustee – as his advocate. He intends to petition for appointment as Blane's guardian and trustee based on the supposed blood relationship."

All of the others looked stunned at the news. "Completely unacceptable!" Duke Simeon burst out. "Never would I allow him to be the boy's guardian! I'm sure the filthy swine wants to get his hands on the estate. "

"I agree with you completely." Chase replied as Patriarch Motune nodded vigorously. "Nevertheless, we would have to hear his petition if he were to make one formally."

"I don't care!" The Duke said angrily. "Even if Ancar Kriegmangal is the blood father, that does not give him an automatic right to be the boy's guardian. We can toss it out in a sunwidth. Character is the first thing we consider in a guardian and the man has none."

"Yes." The Patriarch replied mildly. "We can easily dispose of any claim he makes. But it is good to be forewarned. I think Master and Mistress Gill needed to be aware of this, in case Ancar Kriegmangal does put forward a petition."

"That was my reason for bringing this matter to your attention. But it won't be that easy. I think we can dismiss a case based on Valdemaran Law." General Chase said. "However, my agents inform me that Kriegmangal is claiming that Hardornen Law should be applied. Blood fathers have much stronger claims under Hardornen Law."

Duke Simeon looked thunderstruck. "That could be a major problem. I have just remembered who the Hardornen Ambassador is: Duke Hesham Kriegman." General Chase's face showed worry. The Patriarch and the Gills looked puzzled.

"I note the similarity in the names." The Patriarch said, his voice edged with concern. "Does it imply some relationship?"

General Chase sighed "A Hardornen name that ends in 'gal' means that the person is an acknowledged bastard of a man with the surname without the suffix. Thus, if Duke Simeon were Hardornen and had an acknowledged bastard, the child would be entitled to the name 'Mardukgal'."

"Which means," Duke Simeon took up the thread, "that Ancar Kriegmangal could be related to the Hardornen Ambassador. This case could have diplomatic implications. We will have to see that all the niceties are observed."

"We should send a courier to Haven immediately to make enquiries to the Ambassador." The Patriarch suggested.

"Herald Courier Rhodia is presently in Three Rivers waiting to take some dispatches back to Haven for me." General Chase said. "We can send a message to Duke Kriegman with her."

"That is good." Duke Simeon agreed.

"Herald Coram was a close friend of the family/" Tavener pointed out. "You should probably warn him as well. He may have knowledge that can help clear the matter."

The general grinned. "Poor Coram! We keep him running back here like a hound chasing a ball." The others chuckled. "However, we're warned and won't be surprised this Ancar Kriegmangal does petition for guardianship. We can receive it, hear the evidence, review his character and be ready to dismiss his petition in one day."

He looked around. "Now, may we see Blane? I want to get done here and get back. I've got a report that has to go back to Haven tonight."

"At once, sirs." Marcia replied. She went to the door and called Blane, who appeared immediately.

After introducing the boy to the visitors, the Gills left the room.

They had barely time to renew acquaintance with several of Chase's men before the office door opened. Blane appeared beside the Duke, with whom he chattered happily.

The three men approached the Gills. Once again, the Duke spoke for them. "We're done here. Blane is very happy with you. He is a charming boy. We find that Trustee Bales' complaint is unfounded."

All three men shook hands with the Gills. The Duke and General remounted while the monk assisted the Patriarch back onto the seat of the trap.

As they turned to leave, General Chase said "Tav, we'll see that that ass Bales doesn't bother you further. We will order him to send the stipend by courier. Just give him a receipt to keep him happy. One of us will do the required visits from here on in."

The troop trotted back up the lane as the three waved farewell.

As General Chase had warned, Ancar Kriegmangal petitioned the review board for guardianship of Blane two days later. The review board set a hearing for a sennight after that.

Herald Coram returned to the Gill's house the day before the hearing. He and the Gills spoke to the boy privately that afternoon.

Gently, Herald Coram explained to Blane what had happened and what Ancar Kriegmangal claimed.

Standing before the three, Blane looked at the floor. "That man is not my father. That man is not my blood father." He said softly.

Sensitive to another meaning, Marcia knelt beside him. Placing her hand on his shoulder, she asked "Blane?" The simple use of his name invited him to explain.

Blane looked up, tears in his eyes. "Father and mother told me." He began. "Last winter, I heard them talking and papa said something that sounded like I was not his son."

Blane sobbed slightly. Marcia hugged him.

"I ran into the room and wanted to know what he meant. Papa hugged me and told me that I was his true son. He said his own seed would not grow, but that another man – he said 'a man of great honor' – had given him and mama the seed that had gotten me. Papa said that I was the best gift he had ever had. He said he was my father and loved me as if he had gotten me himself."

Blane burst into tears on Marcia's shoulder. "Papa was my true father. He loved me."

Tavener joined his wife on Blane's other side. "Of course he did, son. But how do you know that this Ancar Kriegmangal was not the man who gave your parents the seed?"

"Papa hated the man. So did mama. They called him a dishonest, filthy rat with no honor. Since papa said that the man who gave the seed was a 'man of great honor', Ancar Kriegmangal cannot be that man." The boy almost shouted the last.

"Do you know who the man who gave the seed was?" Coram asked quietly.

Blane looked up at the Herald. "I think I know. Papa and mama promised I would know when I turned sixteen. If I wanted to, that is. With papa and mama gone, I guess I will never know if I am right."

Herald Coram paused. "Your mother and father are no longer here, Blane. But they knew that bad things could happen. They left a letter with me to give to you on your sixteenth birthday if they could not. You shall have your answer."

With tears still in his eyes, Blane smiled at Coram. "Thank you." He whispered.

After comforting the boy further, Marcia took him from the room. Tavener stood before Coram. "You knew this? You knew that Sandor Truewald was not the blood father?"

Tight lipped, Coram answered. "I was their closest friend. I knew."

Tavener looked at Coram expectantly. The Herald flushed. "I will say no more. The matter is confidential."

Tavener, Marcia and Blane met Herald Coram at the door to Duke's tribunal the next morning. They entered the tribunal chamber and took their place at the right hand table. Ancar Kriegmangal was already seated with his advocate at the left table. The advocate, one Turin Bales, was younger brother to Isador Bales.

As they passed him, Ancar smiled at Blane, who moved to Marcia's other side to clutch her hand and hide behind her.

All rose as the members of the review board entered and seated themselves at the bench. Duke Simeon sat in the middle with General Chase on his left and Patriarch Motune on his right. A fourth person, a richly dressed nobleman wearing a ducal coronet and with the crest of Hardorn on his surcoat, entered with the review board and seated himself to the right of the Patriarch. He regarded Ancar with a disdainful look as he took his seat.

"As this matter involves both Valdemar and Hardorn, Duke Hesham Kriegman, Ambassador of Hardorn to the Court of Valdemar and Duke of Altai has agreed to join in the decision of this tribunal. Duke Hesham has the right of High Justice in Hardorn and his decisions within Hardorn may only be appealed to King Alessander. Welcome, Duke Hesham."

The two Dukes exchanged bows. "I come only to assist this tribunal." Duke Hesham's Valdemaran was flawless. "It is my view and the view of Hardorn that this matter is entirely within Valdemaran jurisdiction. I, and the witnesses I have brought with me, will assist this board by providing any information concerning Hardornen law which may be raised. If, as I expect, I concur with the decision of this board, I will add my Seal as a High Justice of Hardorn, which will render it binding in Hardorn as well as Valdemar."

The trial began with Ancar's advocate, Turin Bales, stating Kriegmangal's case: That Sandor Truewald was infertile and that Ancar was Blane's blood parent. He claimed that Ancar had begotten Blane during the course of an affair with Claris.

Tavener noted Coram stiffening with outrage at the assertion. He put his hand on the Herald's. Coram clenched his teeth and exhaled slowly.

Blood parents had a right to claim their offspring under Valdemaran law, Turin Bales went on. The advocate also said that Hardornen law, where the father had absolute right to any of his get, should be taken into account.

Turin Bales concluded his summary by stating that, upon recognition of Ancar Kriegmangal's rights as Blane's sire, he should be appointed trustee of Blane's affairs.

The last provoked an outburst from Isador Bales, seated behind Tavener. In a voice just loud enough to be heard at the Judge's bench, Isador said "You may be my brother, but there is no way I'll let you put the boy's money in the hands of that turd." For once, Tavener was in complete agreement with the trustee.

Duke Simeon rapped his gavel for order and directed the advocate to continue. Coram caught Duke Hesham grinning briefly at Isador Bales' remark before his face resumed an impassive mien.

As his first witness, Turin Bales summoned a Healer named Lucas Prand, who had treated Sandor Truewald for many years. Under Truth Spell, which Herald Rhodia, a courier attached to the Three Rivers Guard, placed on the Healer, Prand confirmed that Sandor Truewald had been infertile.

When Blane heard this, he wrapped his arms around Marcia and buried his face in her chest. Marcia stroked the boy's hair.

Turin Bales asked if Sandor Truewald knew that he was infertile. The Healer answered that Isador had been aware of his condition.

The advocate asked if the Healer knew who Blane's blood father was. The Healer reacted angrily. "I will not answer that question. I will not even say whether I know the answer. I claim Healer's privilege."

Herald Rhodia spoke up. "My Lords, I am forbidden by law to breach Healer's privilege. I must remove the Truth Spell." The blue glow around the Healer vanished.

Patriarch Motune spoke up. "I must ask Healer Prand to clarify the limits of Healer's privilege for our benefit. It seems that your first two questions touched on matters as private as the third."

Lucas Prand told the tribunal that the first two questions touched solely upon Sandor Bales and his wife, both now deceased, which meant that their personal health need no longer be kept confidential. The third matter touched on others who still lived, particularly Blane.

General Chase asked if it would be allowed for a Healer to confirm or deny that a particular individual was a parent of a child, assuming both the child and the proposed parent were to agree. The Healer said it would be allowed, but it would require a Healer with special abilities that he did not have.

As Healer Prand said this, Duke Hesham leaned over and whispered to Duke Simeon. The latter looked at the Ambassador and readily agreed.

After the Healer, Turin Bales put Ancar Kriegmangal on the stand. Herald Rhodia placed the Truth Spell on him. At his advocate's prompting, he gave his name as Ancar Kriegmangal.

Hearing this, Duke Hesham burst out _"Vehlo pardo, ta nesn callen to tre hrade. Eo fardo to demittet."_

Every Hardornen speaker in the room blanched. Ancar looked outraged and grabbed at his empty knife sheath. Only the members of the tribunal and the guard on duty were permitted arms in the chamber. Seeing the gesture, Duke Hesham grinned. _"Ya, vehlo, yn fronden. Eg'll t'entrin soilin let ab huntin." _Those who understood blanched again. Ancar gulped and dropped his hand to his lap.

Duke Simeon looked at his counterpart. "I appreciate the offence My Lord takes at the name that the petitioner uses. However, I beg your indulgence so that we may proceed with the issue before this tribunal."

The Hardornen Duke stared back at his peer. "As you wish, My Lord. However, I will report this matter to the Court of Honor in Crown City." Ancar gulped once more.

Duke Simeon signaled Turin Bales to continue. Under the truth spell, Ancar stated that he had been a partner with Sandor Truewald for several years before they had quarreled and dissolved the partnership. When asked why the partnership dissolved, Ancar stated baldly "Because I had sex with Claris. That is when the boy was conceived." The blue glow of the truth spell did not falter.

"Why did Claris Truewald have sex with you?" The advocate asked.

"Because she and Sandor wanted a child." Ancar replied.

"Did Sandor consent to this? If so, why did it lead to dissolving the partnership/" Turin Bales went on.

"He said I raped her and that he would have killed me if he had known about it." Ancar said. "I believe Claris told him I raped her."

"Did you rape her?" The advocate asked bluntly.

"No." Ancar said. "She wanted it. You know how some women are. They say 'no' when they mean 'yes'. That kind loves sex to be a little rough."

A murmur of outrage passed through the court. The four men on the bench grimaced and looked contemptuously at Ancar.

Krias had been listening through Coram's mind. _::I'll stomp him into the pavement_.:: The Companion mindspoke to Coram. _::I'll make a blood pudding out of him. They'll have to clean him off the cobbles with a mop.:: _

Coram could sense the stallion prancing in outrage where he waited outside the tribunal. Outraged himself, the Herald found himself in the unusual situation of a Herald attempting to calm his Companion.

"That sounds like rape to me." Tavener whispered to Coram. "Why does the Truth Spell show he is telling the truth?"

"Because that is what that swine really thinks and believes." Coram whispered back. "Some people think that way. The Truth Spell only shows that he is speaking the truth as he sees it."

"If he tried that with me, he'd sing soprano for the rest of his life." Marcia said quietly. "They teach Healers how to defend themselves and we know how to hurt most."

On the stand, Ancar repeated his claim that he had sired Blane when he had sex with Claris.

Turin Bales finished. Coram stood up to question Ancar on behalf of the Gills. He asked Ancar if Sandor and Claris had ever acknowledged him as Blane's blood father. Ancar admitted they had not.

Coram then asked if Ancar had ever made an official claim to be Blane's blood father before any tribunal or court in Valdemar or sworn a statement to that effect before a Herald prior to the deaths of Sandor and Claris. Again, Ancar admitted he had not.

Coram addressed the court. "Under Valdemaran law, the parents of record must acknowledge a blood parent in a sworn statement for a blood parent to have a claim. If the parents of record will not acknowledge a blood parent, the blood parent may swear to the relationship before a tribunal or court or before a Herald within three years of the child's birth. It neither of these things happens, the blood parent forfeits all rights to the child. Even assuming that he was the blood parent of Blane, the boy is now eight years old. Ancar Kriegmangal has forfeited his claim."

Coram also repeated to the court what he had told Tavener about the Truth Spell. Herald Rhodia confirmed that the Truth Spell could only show that someone said what he believed was true. It could not determine whether that belief itself was false.

Coram sat down and Duke Simeon dismissed Ancar. "The Court notes that Ancar Kriegmangal, being a citizen of Hardorn, has cited Hardornen law as a basis of his claim. Duke Hesham has agreed to inform us of Hardornen law on these points."

Duke Hesham looked around the Court. He sneered contemptuously once more at Ancar. "Hardornen Law grants a father absolute right to his get if he can prove that he is the father. This right does not expire unless the father voluntarily gives it up or if a cuckolded husband adopts the child as his own.

"Hardornen custom says that a husband who knowingly takes a child conceived by another man with his wife into his house and does not repudiate his wife has tacitly adopted the child. Our courts have generally interpreted the law in the light of this custom."

The Duke grinned unpleasantly at Ancar. "Hardornen law also says that, if a husband accepts his wife back after she has had sex with another man, the other man is guilty of rape. Under Hardornen law, the claimant has therefore admitted to rape."

Ancar looked stunned. The members of the review panel, the Gills and Coram all grinned wolfishly.

"However, the issue still remains whether the young man is the blood son of the claimant. I have brought with me the means to settle that issue." Duke Hesham looked to one side and a middle aged woman dressed as a priestess stepped forward.

"Reverend Mother Loana is a Priestess of the Daughters of Care, a healing order in Hardorn. She is possessed of the Gift mentioned by Healer Prand which allows her to See whether a child is the offspring of another person."

Duke Simeon and the other members of the tribunal rose. Duke Simeon formally welcomed Reverend Mother Loana on behalf of the tribunal. She crossed her arms palm inwards and bowed to the tribunal.

"Pleased I be should my small powers give light to way." She said in passable Valdemaran. Turning towards the Gills, she fixed her eye on Blane. "Boy-child, you wish to be knowing if that man be youn father?" She gestured towards Ancar.

Blane bowed to her and shook his head. _"Ni, Hegla grace, eg kont do daele yn paderas ne wis. Eg espet te pontes manden as aller volkos vidinint." _The Reverend Mother smiled at the boy's speech, as did those on the bench. Ancar stiffened. "No, gracious Lady, I know this man is not my father. I wish you to use your gifts so all may see this." Blane repeated in Valdemaran.

"_Te viren spegen, yo sono. Mait manis Desais ta covenet."_ She replied. Blane blushed, then crossed his arms and bowed to her.

Tavener looked at Coram inquiringly. "You speak well, my child. May the Hand of the Goddess be upon you." The Herald translated in a whisper.

The Priestess now faced Ancar. In Valdemaran she asked"Be it you will that I test your claim of you be boy-child father?"

"I am his father." Ancar almost sneered. "Test and you will see." His discourteous address raised eyebrows around the room. Even the dour Isador Bales muttered about 'bad manners.'

The Priestess only nodded. "Be it so."

She turned back to Blane. _"Yo sono, plait to festet yn stabn." _Blane got up and stood in front of the Priestess. She smiled and placed her right hand on his head. She raised her left hand and pointed straight up.

She closed her eyes. _"Madrasa Desa Spira yn helfen wahr vidinir. Padremen do knabo eg vidinir vult." _There was a gasp through the room as she was suddenly surrounded by a blue glow.

Coram leaned over to the Gills. "She invokes the Holy Mother Goddess to help her See Blane's parents. Her invocation seems to work like a Truth Spell." Coram's whisper was tinged with awe.

_::It is exactly like the Truth Spell.:: _Krias mindspoke his Chosen_. ::I do not know how she does this, but she cannot speak falsely at this time.:: _The Companion seemed as awed as his Herald.

Coram glanced at Herald Rhodia, who seemed just as stunned by what she saw.

The Priestess stood immobile for several moments before her eyes flew wide open. She stared as though looking off at a great distance.

She opened her mouth and, still staring into the distance, spoke. _"Padremen tri do knabo haret. Duen vero werlo legerent." _Her voice sounded as though it came from the bottom of a well.

Herald Rhodia jumped slightly then translated. "This boy had three parents. Two have left your world."

"_Odin vero werlo stayet. Den odin do knabo blutas padrenas wis. Den blutas padrenas ser nest das odo de knabee clamet hier. Den blutas padresas Serres vires wis, quen de knabee pra langa curet."_

"One remains in your world. This one is the boy's blood father. This blood father is not he who claims the boy here and now. This blood father is a true Gentleman who watches over the boy from afar." Herald Rhodia translated again.

The Priestess lowered her left hand to join her right hand on Blane's head. The blue glow vanished. Her eyes focused on Blane and she said. "Rightly you spoke, man-child. That one is not youn blood father."

Ancar leaped to his feet. "Lies!" He burst out. "I am the boy's father! She lies!"

"Silence!" Duke Simeon roared, rapping his gavel. "Silence that man!" Two burly guards rushed forward while Turin Bales, white faced, gestured to his client to obey.

Ancar pressed his lips tightly together and sat down.

Herald Rhodia spoke up. "My Lords, I do not know how, but the Reverend Mother's invocation brought forth something like the Truth Spell we Heralds use. You saw the sign of it around her. It was impossible for her to lie at that moment. My Companion Laercye confirms this. Herald Coram and his Companion would also say this."

Duke Simeon glanced at Coram. "Herald Rhodia is right. I could not believe it myself, but Krias tells me this is so." Coram said.

Looking from one Herald to the other, Duke Simeon asked "Herald Coram said before that the truth spell only shows that the speaker believes what he says to be true. We have a contradiction between what Reverend Mother Loana says and what Ancar Kriegmangal says.

"Ancar believes he is the boy's father, so his answer was the truth as he saw it.

"Reverend Mother Loana's gift shows that what Ancar believes cannot be true."

He looked at Herald Rhodia for confirmation.

Herald Rhodia agreed, re-emphasizing that people often believe what is not necessarily true. "It sometimes complicates things for Heralds in the field." She added with a smile.

"I'll bet it does." Duke Simeon snorted.

Duke Simeon looked at the other members of the tribunal. All were obviously in agreement. He looked at Duke Hesham, who spoke one word. "Ya."

Duke Simeon rapped his gavel again. "It had been the intention of this tribunal to examine the character of Ancar Kriegmangal to see if he was fit to be guardian of Blane Truewald. However, as the basis of Ancar Kriegmangal's claim has been shown false, an examination of his character is moot.

"This tribunal notes that, even if Ancar Kriegmangal had been Blane Truewald's blood father, his claim was already forfeit under the laws of both Valdemar and Hardorn.

"The Petition of Ancar Kriegmangal to be named guardian of Blane Truewald is denied." Duke Simeon turned to the Hardornen Ambassador. "Has His Grace anything he wishes to add?"

Duke Hesham stood up. "I concur with the decision of this tribunal. I will place my seal as a High Justice of Hardorn upon the record of this decision, which shall render it binding in Hardorn."

He looked menacingly at Ancar. "On a personal note, I would advise this one to cease using the style of name that he has usurped. While I cannot enforce that in Valdemar, if he should use that style in Hardorn, I will petition the Court of Honor for the right of penal combat."

Ancar gulped visibly.

Duke Simeon rapped his gavel once more. "This business is concluded." The tribunal stood and all present followed suit. The four on the bench walked out of the room before anyone else moved.

The Gills rose and started towards the door. Ancar confronted them. "He is my son. I will have him with me." He glared at the family.

Coram interposed himself between Ancar and Blane. "If you touch him, it will be kidnapping under Valdemaran law. That's a hanging offense."

"Shut up, you fool!" Turin Bales said to his client, grabbing his arm. Ancar looked murderously at the Herald and stalked out.

Coram led the shaken family out of the room. Krias waited by the door. He nuzzled Blane, who hugged the Companion's neck.

A old farmer looked at Coram. "Glad yer back, Herald. This lad of yourn were a mite upset a while agone. He looked fit to kick down the door." He patted Krias' neck.

"Krias was listening through my mind when that man spoke of raping my friend." Coram explained.

The farmer looked at Krias. "Aye, lad. That is sommat worth a reckoning. I'd 'a helped ye knock him down fer that." He patted Krias once more and sauntered off.

Krias looked at the farmer's receding back. _::There goes a man of sound judgment.::_

_::You mean he agrees with you.:: _Coram replied to his Companion.

_::Chosen, I believe you are beginning to understand.:: _The Companion's eye glittered with humor._ ::As my judgment is always good, it follows that anyone who agrees with me must have good judgment.::_

Coram laughed and slapped Krias' shoulder.

It was nearly noon, so Tavener led the family towards a public house on the courthouse square. They took their seats and ordered a light meal.

"What was that between Ancar and Duke Hesham?" Tavener asked Coram.

"Remember yesterday when I told you about what 'gal' at the end of a name means?" At Tavener's nod, Coram went on. "It seems that the Duke is not at all pleased about Ancar claiming relationship. He was quite insulting about how he expressed his displeasure."

"Yes." Blane said. "Papa told me never, ever to call someone that."

"Call them what?" Tavener asked his fosterling.

Blane glanced around the room before leaning forward to whisper. " 'Vehlo'. It means 'slave', but you never use it, not even if you are speaking to a slave. It is the worst name you can call someone."

The meal arrived. As all began to eat, Coram took up the explanation. "Hardornens are extremely rank conscious. It is important to always address someone by their correct rank. If you don't know their rank, use a higher rank, never a lower one. But even a slave – slavery is legal in Hardorn – is never addressed as 'vehlo' or 'slave'.

"It is worse than calling someone's mother a whore and has been known to cause instant death fights. Only someone as high ranking as Duke Hesham could get away with it. Even then, you saw Ancar reach for where his dagger would have been if weapons were allowed in the courtroom."

"So why did the Duke call him that?" Marcia asked. "What was it about?"

"The Duke said '_Vehlo pardo, ta nesn callen to tre hrade. Eo fardo to demittet.' " _Blane quoted. "That means 'Stinking slave, you have no right to call yourself that. My brother repudiated you.' " He looked at Coram.

"Ancar must be claiming to be the bastard son of Duke Hesham's brother." Coram surmised. "He probably is, if the brother went to the trouble of repudiating him. That probably means that Ancar did something disgraceful."

"What was the other thing the Duke said?" Marcia asked?

" '_Ya, vehlo, yn fronden. Eg'll t'entrin soilin let ab huntin.' " _Blane quoted again, then translated. "Yes, slave, challenge me. I'll leave your filthy guts for the dogs."

Coram looked at Blane. "You have an excellent memory, Blane. I believe that is word for word what the Duke said." The boy smiled at the complement."

Coram grinned. "I don't think it would be wise to challenge Duke Hesham. I've seen him working out in the Collegium salle. He is a very formidable fighter."

"He's also damned formidable in the field." Duke Simeon's voice rang out behind Coram. The four jumped to their feet to see the members of the tribunal along with Duke Hesham, the Priestess and Herald Rhodia standing nearby. Intent on their conversation, they had not noticed the group entering the dining room.

Grinning at their discomfiture, Duke Simeon went on. "I did cadet service on the Hardorn border chasing bandits. Duke Hesham was a cadet on the Hardorn side. I saw him take down bandits in bunches. He is very good with a saber and shield."

Duke Hesham smiled. "My friend Simeon praises me overmuch, I think. But I would not be worried about facing that turd we saw today."

Tavener invited the group to join their party, but they declined. The tribunal had a private room kept for them in the back.

Blane bowed to the group. "Thank you, sirs and ladies, for the protection you have granted me today. I am in your debt."

Duke Simeon smiled. "We are here to serve justice, lad. That is our duty. Your cause was just and you deserved our protection. If you feel indebted, repay that debt by being just and honorable yourself."

Blane bowed again. Looking at Duke Hesham, he said. _"Higt-heglo, eg ta danbt. Ta decro in Hardorn ty Valdemar gros meeat."_

Duke Hesham broke into a broad grin while Coram translated for the Gills: " 'High Lord, I thank you. Your judgment means much in Hardorn and Valdemar.'."

"Well spoken, lad!" The Duke exclaimed in Valdemaran. "You are a son any man would be proud to claim. I almost wish you had proved to be my blood kin."

He gestured to an aide, who handed him a pouch. Duke Hesham opened it and pulled out a silver medallion on a chain. He draped it over Blane's neck.

Blane looked at the medallion. On one side it depicted two rearing stags facing each other. On the other side was the Hardorn Oak.

"The fighting stags are the symbol of the Duchy of Altai." The Duke explained. "This medallion means that you are under my protection. If you have need of my help in Hardorn, show this to anyone. They will send word to me."

Blane looked at the medallion in astonishment, then looked back at the Duke. Blane dropped to one knee and folded his hands on his chest. _"Higt-heglen Hesham Dux. Eg vowt te siglan con virto bearir." _['High Lord Duke Hesham. I swear to wear your emblem with honor.']

The Duke placed his right hand on Blane's head. _"Blano Truewalden. Eg ta met eo mano coven. Odes que ta blesserent yn horro sentirent." _['Blane Truewald. {Literally: _'Blane of the Truewalds._'} I place my hand upon you. Those who would harm you shall feel my wrath.']

Removing his hand from Blane's head, he took the boy's hand and pulled him to his feet. "Grow strong, lad. I expect much of you." He hugged Blane to his chest.

Glancing at the Gills and Coram. Duke Hesham said "I have kept you from your meal too long. May the Father and the Mother protect you."

The four thanked the Duke and the others in the tribunal party, who moved off to their private room.

Tavener looked astonished. He stared after the Duke. Turning to Coram, he asked. "Did he just make Blane his ward?"

Coram's look was as astonished as Tavener's. "More than that. He just pledged himself to defend Blane with all his power." Coram looked at Blane. "You have won yourself a very powerful friend, Blane. You impressed him a great deal when you swore to him.

"Do you know the full meaning of that oath?"

"It means I will always keep my word. I will never do anything shameful. Also, I will never fight against him."

"Exactly." Coram agreed. "Even if Valdemar and Hardorn went to war, which is very unlikely, you could not fight on the Valdemaran side. You wouldn't have to fight for Hardorn – that would be shameful for a Valdemaran – but you could not fight against Hardorn."

Coram looked back at the Gills. "The oaths they exchanged are just one step short of making Blane a liegeman to Duke Hesham."

After their luncheon, the Gills returned home. Coram once more set off to Haven.

Haven stretched out before the Gills. Tavener rode his bay palfrey alongside the trap. Marcia drove the mule while Blane and Hansal rode beside her. Blane had pleaded with Tavener to allow Hansal to come. Tavener had agreed on the condition that Hansal's father gave permission. To his surprise, Bartram Austrebon had agreed immediately.

As the family descended towards the city, half a dozen Companions emerged from the gate. Five bore grey clad figures, one of the riders wore white.

Within a few moments, the family was surrounded by their children. The other travelers on the road made room for the cavalcade, giving astonished looks at the large group of Companions around one family.

Tavener congratulated Pena, who had received her Whites just days before.

"When your letter came saying that you expected to arrive today, I kept an eye on the road to watch for you." Pena said from Vosten's back. Tavener greeted Vosten; the stallion bobbed his head in reply. Pena's gift was farsight. She claimed that, with Vosten's help, she could see things ten leagues away.

After the Gills had greeted all of their children and their Companions, Jamis pointed at the two boys and asked. "Who is this? Are these our new foster brothers?"

Before Marcia could reply, Daffyd spoke. "I know Hansal! Welcome to Haven Hansal." Then, in very badly accented Karsite, added. "May the Sun watch over you."

"May Vkandis grant you favor." Hansal grinned shyly, replying in the same language.

"That's about all the Karsite I know so far." Daffyd said, returning to Valdemaran.

"But you're going to learn it if I have to cram the Karsite dictionary down your throat." Widrin threatened, eliciting a laughing whicker from the surrounding Companions.

"Aw, go away, you're not my mentor." Daffyd retorted. Turning back to Hansal he added "I'm glad to see you. I hope you are doing OK." Although a few years older than Hansal, Daffyd had been one of the boy's few defenders back at the village.

"Thank you, Daffyd. Welcome I have found with your kin." Hansal still struggled with Valdemaran syntax, especially when he was nervous. He was still uncertain about the Companions. "Blane asked me to come with him and your father and mother."

Jamis looked at Blane. "So you are our new foster-brother? Welcome to our family, brother. Mom and dad are the best parents in the whole world."

"I really like papa and mama Gill." Blane replied. "Papa Gill even rescued Rolan for me."

The Companions all snorted loudly at the name of the pony, and whickered merrily.

"Rolan is the name of his pony, which I bought from his father's estate." Tavener explained to his children, who joined their Companions' merriment.

"Don't anyone dare tell the Companion to the King's Own." Pena said to the group.

_::Too late.::_ A sonorous, powerful mindvoice rang in the heads of all of the trainees and their Companions. _::It is actually rather flattering.:_:

"Who said that?" Hansal asked, looking around nervously. Blane nodded, agreeing with his friend.

"That was Rolan, the Companion to the King's Own Herald. He is the chief of the Companions." Pena explained. Noticing that her parents seemed bewildered, she explained to them what had happened. Tavener smiled inwardly, guessing shrewdly at the implication of both boys hearing Rolan. Jamis' Taulia nudged Tavener's leg and nodded at him when he looked at her.

"You mean a Companion can see what is in your mind?" Hansal seemed frightened by the idea.

Blane answered first. "Yes, they can. But they won't do it unless there is a need. Even then, they will usually ask for permission. But speaking into your mind isn't the same thing; it's just like me speaking to you right now only you hear it directly in your mind. They usually only do that with their Chosen, but sometimes they do speak to other people when they want to. When a Companion speaks in your mind, it means you are a good person and they like you a lot."

Hansal relaxed a bit. "You mean Rolan thinks I am a good person?" He asked.

"Yes." Blane answered. "And he is the biggest and most important of the Companions. If he thinks you are good, you are good, no doubt about it."

The six Gill children were obviously amused by Blane's little speech. Jamis spoke for them. "Well, he isn't the biggest Companion – wait until you see Dirik – but he is the most important of them."

_::Well, he THINKS he is the most important.::_ Taulia interjected to her Chosen. From the snickers of the other Gil children, their Companions were making similar remarks to their Chosen.

Ignoring his Companion, Jamis went on. "But the most important thing is that Blane is right: If Rolan says you are a good person, you are a good person. He is never wrong about people."

He looked at his new foster brother. "Who told you this, Blane? You seem to know a lot about Heralds and Companions."

"Herald Coram was my papa's best friend. He used to visit us in Three Rivers whenever he could. He and Krias taught me lots about Heralds and Companions." Blane replied.

Jamis smiled. "Coram was my first instructor in my fetching gift. He also was mentor to our brother Padrik on his internship. I like him a lot. Did you say that Krias also taught you?" Jamis looked impressed.

"Krias never talked to me in words. Sometimes, when I was confused about what Herald Coram was telling me, Krias would come close to me; then it would all make sense. And if I was frightened, I could just touch Krias and the fear went away."

Jamis looked at Blane for a long moment, as though uncertain what to say. Finally he said "Krias must really like you, Blane. And I am really happy to have a foster brother who is a good friend of a Companion." Jamis' eyes seemed to stare off for a moment. "Taulia says to tell you she likes you, too." The other Companions whickered softly and nodded their heads.

Jamis looked over at Hansal. "Taulia says she likes you as well, Hansal."

Hansal looked at the mare. "I like you back, Taulia." He turned to Blane. "That thing you said about Krias – that your fear went away – that's what happened the day he and Herald Coram brought you to lessons. I touched him and suddenly I wasn't afraid any more."

Tavener noted how his children exchanged meaningful glances, obviously coming to the same conclusion he had reached a few minutes before.

The family entered the city gate together. The children escorted their parents through the winding, twisted streets of the city until they reached the Collegium Bell, the inn most favored by Heralds and where Heralds' families usually stayed when they visited.

There, the family was joined by Hansal's sister, Heike, a russet flower amongst the grey and white uniforms. Having been in Bardic for nearly two years, Heike was familiar with Companions and Heralds. She reassured her brother that they were all good.

When the dinner ended, Tavener took Pena aside and asked if she would let Dean Tuck that he had arrived. When Pena gave him a questioning look, he explained that Herald Coram had told him that Dean Tuck wanted to see him.

The next morning, Tavener, Marcia and the boys went to the Palace gate, where they were met by Pena and Heike, who produced passes for them and escorted them to the Collegium. At the door, they were met by a sturdy Herald with a freckled face about Tavener's age and a much older Herald with grey hair drawn back in a tail. The second man, whose age Tavener guessed around seventy, still had an erect carriage and fit appearance. The most remarkable thing about the second Herald was the scar that cut across his eyes. Tavener thought he had seen the man before.

"Tavener and Marcia Gill?" The younger man asked, offering his hand. As Tavener shook his hand and nodded, the man introduced himself, confirming Tavener's guess. "I am Dean Tuck Chester" Indicating the other Herald, he said. "This is Herald Pol."

Tavener was stunned. "THE Herald Pol? The Lord Marshall's Herald, the one who trained Lavan Firestorm?" Tavener tried to control himself, not wanting to sound like a silly child meeting his hero.

The elderly Herald grinned at Tavener's surprise. "Former Lord Marshall's Herald. I am now mostly retired and only help out with identifying incipient gifts among the trainees nowadays. And, yes, I did train Lavan Chitward. Lan never liked being called Lavan Firestorm and I prefer not to use that name."

From the way Herald Pol spoke, Tavener guessed that he thought of the famous hero as a spiritual son.

Dean Tuck looked at the youngsters. "Pena, why don't you and Heike take Blane and Hansal for a tour. I have a hunch that they would like to see the salle and the Companions' stable."

The four young people set off. As they left, they heard Hansal ask "What's a salle?"

The four elders watched the youngsters out of sight before Dean Tuck said "Will you please come in? Herald Pol and I need to discuss some matters with you." The four entered the Collegium. Dean Tuck led them to a small room beside his office with a dozen chairs around a table. There was a small tray of refreshments at one end of the table."

"First, let me thank you on behalf of the Crown for what you are doing…"

The door opened at that moment and two men in Heralds' uniforms walked in. "The Crown can thank Master and Mistress Gill for Himself." King Theran boomed.

Tavener and Marcia jumped to their feet and started to bow. Pol and Tuck remained seated. "Save that nonsense for the Throne Room." Theran commanded, waving the Gills back to their seats.

The mane of graying hair and the worry lines on his weathered face only added to the authority that radiated from the King. This was a man whose very presence commanded obedience. To a lesser extent, the man beside him exuded the same authority.

"This is King's Own Herald Jedin." Theran introduced. "Jedin, Tuck and Pol devised the plan that you have agreed to help with. It's a good one and I am very grateful to you."

Jedin spoke up. "The Companions usually spot potential Heralds long before they are ready to be Chosen and brought to the Collegium. Either the children's gifts are not ready to bloom or they need to stay longer with their families or…" His eyes went unfocussed for a moment in the expression that all present knew meant he was speaking to his Companion. "…or, as Rolan has just reminded me, they just need more time just to be children."

Dean Tuck nodded. "Yes. This is usually not a problem as the children can be with their families until they are ready to come here.

"But tragedies occur and sometimes potential trainees are left orphan. Usually, there are relatives to take them in, but sometimes there are not. Sometimes the relatives are unsuitable to be parents. Sometimes they refuse to take in their orphaned kin." Tuck's voice was bleak as he added this last comment.

"This is where you come in." Theran took up the conversation again. "I must say that having nine children Chosen from one family is something of a record. It certainly impressed me when I was told. What is your secret?"

Nonplussed by the praise on the lips of his sovereign, Tavener could only say "We do our best, Your Majesty. We give them our love and we try to show them what is right."

"Don't we all." Tuck said softly. "Some do it better than others." His thoughts went to his and Macy's twin daughters, who kept their parents (and their younger brother) at wits' end until they entered Healer's Collegium. Not that their brother was any better. Sarem, in the company of Theran's younger children, had terrorized the Palace until Naven had Chosen him in the midst of a snowfight.

"I have talked to all of your children over the years to help identify their gifts and begin developing." Herald Pol said. "Most of them had an elementary grasp of their gifts before I even saw them. All of them already had mastered the technique of grounding and centering themselves."

He looked at the Gills. "They all said it was what you had taught them during their meditations. You are, I understand, members of the Congregation of The One?"

Tavener and Marcia confirmed Pol's statement with a nod.

"I do not know the practices of the Congregation. Is meditation part of it?"

"Yes." Marcia confirmed. "The Book of the One teaches that prayer begins by looking inward and coming to terms with what you are. Meditation is the basic rite. You must know yourself and accept yourself before you look outward."

"Ah!" Pol said. "That would explain the grounding and centering. It is one of the most basic, yet most difficult, aspects of learning to use one's gifts. If your children learned it from the beginning, it would be natural for them by the time they were Chosen."

"Pity that all children don't have that before they come to us." Jedin observed. "But 'There is no One True Way'." He quoted. The other three Heralds smiled.

"Will you be asking young Blane to join in the meditation?" Tuck wanted to know.

The Gills looked at each other. Tavener spoke for both. "Your letter said that his parents worshipped the Twain. As you may be aware, the Book of The One says that all Gods are really just aspects of The One God and that all true worship leads ultimately to The One. In that sense, we truly believe 'There is no One True Way.' So we were willing to allow Blane to worship as his parents did. However, he has joined us in the meditation. We have not asked him how he shapes his prayer."

"Do you use any special technique, such as fasting or ritual chant?" Theran asked.

"No." Tavener replied. "It is simply a matter of quiet contemplation for however long one requires, usually in a place without distraction."

Pol looked sharply at the Gills. "Do you use a focus for your meditation?"

"There is no prescribed focus. On special occasions, however, we often use a candle."

There was a long silence. Finally Pol asked. "Have there been any 'special occasions' since Blane came to your house?" Tavener sensed that Pol put great importance on the question.

The Gills looked at each other again, trying to recall. Marcia shook her head. Tavener looked back at Herald Pol. "I don't recall any, Herald Pol. Why do you ask?"

Chewing his lip, Pol said. "If it does not interfere with your ritual, I would recommend you use a crystal or other object – anything but a candle or a flame – for your meditation when Blane joins you."

The Gills looked at him blankly.

"We think Blane Truewald is a firestarter." Pol explained.

Tavener and Marcia felt a cold chill. Seeing their reaction, Jedin tried to reassure them. "Rolan says it is not a very strong gift. He won't be another Lavan Chitward. His gift will probably be strong enough to ignite readily combustible materials or make something burn faster or slower if it is already alight. He won't be capable of incinerating buildings or forests."

Tavener closed his eyes and forced himself to relax.

"That is what we want you to teach him." Pol said.

Confused, Tavener asked "You want me to teach him to use his gift?"

"No. We want you to teach him what you just did." Pol said. "You were nervous and frightened by what we had just told you. You focused inward and your tension simply drained away. That inward focus is what gift teachers call 'centering'. When you allowed the tension and fear to drain away, you did what we call 'grounding'."

Pol grinned broadly. "If you had mind-gifts, I would be begging you to come to Haven to be our primary gift-teacher."

Jedin cleared his throat. "Actually, Rolan says he does have a gift." The others looked at the King's Own. "Rolan says it is what the Hardornens and Rethwellans call the 'Earth Sense'. It is an innate understanding of the land and living things."

The King's Own fixed a stare on Tavener. "You know when one of your livestock is not feeling well, don't you? When there is a problem with your lands, you know it even before you realize what it is."

Marcia looked at her husband and nodded. Tavener contemplated what Jedin had said for several minutes. "Yes." He said finally. "I get a feeling that something is wrong. It doesn't go away until I have found out what it is and done whatever I can do about it."

Marcia added softly. "Two years ago, there were some bandits in our area. One afternoon, Tav abruptly sent all the workers home early except for Billy Malker. He saddled a mule and told Billy to go to Three Rivers as fast as he could and bring the guard. Then we barricaded the house and waited inside.

"The guard came just as the bandits were preparing to set fire to the house to force us out." She smiled grimly. "None of the bandits got away."

"I never could say why I knew/" Tavener picked up the narrative. "I just knew we needed the guard and needed to barricade the house. The Herald that came with the guard said that I must have had a sort of foresight, but I never agreed with that. There was just something wrong and I knew what I had to do about it."

"That is the way the Earth Sense works. The land itself speaks to you." Jedin agreed softly. "It is probably also the reason that you are so successful with your lands and businesses. You instinctively know the right thing to do to make them prosper."

"Which brings us back to the meditation ritual." Pol spoke up. "Blane needs to learn to center and ground himself. He needs to be able to calm himself when he is frightened or tense.

"If he used a candle or a flame as a focus, his gift could begin to work on it. A candle might blaze up all at once. Aside from the immediate danger that would bring, it would be very frightening. He could panic. The result would be either that he loses control of the gift or he shuts the gift down completely. Obviously we want to prevent either of those things from happening."

"Aye. That makes sense." Tavener agreed. "We can use a crystal or other ornament as focus. Let him master the meditation before you people –" he looked around at the Heralds " – teach him to use what he has got."

"Thank you, Master Gill." Dean Tuck said. "We are very grateful that you are willing to do this for us. We generally have one gifted orphan like Blane every year or two. In the past, some of these have gone to homes that have discouraged them or failed to nurture there gifts properly. Such children are lost to us, never fulfilling their potential of becoming Heralds."

King Theran sighed. "Believe me, Master Gill. What you are doing is beyond price. Valdemar needs every single Herald we can find.

"Tavener and Marcia Gill, you have good common sense in uncommon measure. I am tempted to appoint you to the Royal Council."

Tavener shrugged dismissively. "I am low-born and represent no faction. You might listen to me on Council, but many of the others would not. There is no benefit to putting me on the council. Whatever other matters are discussed, I am sure that the affairs of Court take up much of the time. Since I am ignorant of those matters and do not mingle with the highborn, I could add nothing on such questions. For any other matter, I can and will give you my opinion freely and honestly at any time you ask for it..."

"I would my councilors did the same." Theran said with a smile. "However, I am now giving you a Royal Command to appear before me at Morning Court tomorrow. I will officially appoint you both Special Guardians at the King's Pleasure and also as auxiliary instructors to Herald's Collegium. That will put you under my direct protection. Interfering with you or your wards will be a criminal offence."

The Gills looked aghast. "But we have no clothes suitable for the Court!" Marcia complained.

"Wear the clothes you have. I want to make it plain to my courtiers that fine clothes are not the road to my good regard." Theran looked pleased with himself. "Is there anything else?"

"Just the matter of the other boy." Dean Tuck said.

"Other boy?" Marcia asked. "Is there another orphan?"

"No." Tuck said, shaking his head. "The Karsite boy who came with you. We have been watching him for some time."

Seeing alarm on his guests' faces, Tuck hastened to add. "In a good way, I mean." Looking Tavener in the eye Tuck said. "As you have surmised, Hansal Austrebon is very likely to be Chosen. Through Krias and the other Companions that have met him, I am told that he is quickly losing the fear of the 'White Demons' instilled by his birthplace.

"We hope you will encourage Blane to keep up his friendship with Hansal so that Hansal will, like native Valdemaran children, come to wish for a Companion by the time he is ready to be Chosen."

Marcia shrugged. "That will be no problem. The boys already spend much of their time together." The friendship was growing quickly. Blane had even allowed Hansal to ride his pony. Tavener's assistant foreman was teaching Hansal to ride properly. The boys played and studied together, with their chattering half in Karsite and half in Valdemaran.

"Good." Tuck said. "We can't ask you to teach him meditation – the family is fairly strict about their worship of the Sunlord – but there is a Temple of Vkandis in Three Rivers. We will ask one of the priests there to see that Hansal is schooled in the techniques."

"So he has a gift?" Tavener asked.

"He shows signs of several of what we call 'communication' gifts." Pol put in. "Mindspeech, animal mindspeech and a touch of truthsay, which means he generally knows when someone is lying to him or trying to deceive him. His mindspeech is particularly powerful. He may become the most powerful mindspeaker since Herald Mags. Don't be surprised or upset if he shows that he knows what you are thinking. We will have the priest tell his family the same thing. "

Pol did not mention that Heike, herself a mindspeaker, had written to convince her father that Hansal should come to Haven at the earliest opportunity so that she could teach him the basics of his gift.

Bartram Austrebon had already accepted that Heraldic and Bardic gifts were not 'Witch Powers' but still feared them. Heike and the priest from the Temple of the Lord of Light (as Valdemarans referred to Vkandis) had easily persuaded Bartram that it was necessary Hansal be taught the proper use of his gifts and how to control them.

Heike had been tasked with ensuring that her brother learned the basics of shielding and that it was wrong to read the thoughts of others without their permission. Heike had a strong Bardic gift and had been given permission to use it to impress on her brother that peeking at the thoughts of others was wrong.

Normally, Pol would not have expected an older sister to be able to convince her younger brother to listen to what she said. The Dean of Bardic reassured Pol that Heike was very advanced in the use of her Bardic gift and quite capable of making her points so subtly that Hansal would think it was all his own idea.

Changing the subject, Dean Tuck asked when the Gills would be ready to accept the first group of final year trainees. Marcia said she would need only a few days after returning home to arrange matters. She would need to get temporary help for the cook and other details. The Dean and the Gills agreed the first group of seven Trainees and two full Heralds would arrive in three sennights.

Their business finished, the group rose. After cordial goodbyes, the King and King's Own left. Pol headed for Companion's stable for his morning ride on Satiran. Pol's Companion still enjoyed the exercise although he no longer insisted on taking the obstacle course, being content with a vigorous canter around Companions' field.

Tuck led the Gills back to the front door, where Pena waited for her parents.

Pena took her parents to the salle, where they found Blane and Hansal practicing some primary sword exercises under the watchful eye of an elderly Herald named Odo, whom Pena explained was the former Weaponsmaster. Due to age, Odo had handed over the job to Herald Wernar, but still worked with many of the newly Chosen learning the basics.

Blane and Hansal were obviously reveling in learning to be swordsmen, albeit with wooden practice swords and basic exercises. They listened solemnly to everything Odo said, promising to practice the exercises for a candlemark every day. Somehow, Tavener knew that both boys would keep that promise and more.

When Odo took the boys off to show them the archery range, Weaponsmaster Wernar took Tavener aside. "You have a pells at your home." It was a statement, not a question. Wernar knew who the Gills were and had trained all of their children. "These two should be encouraged to drill with the pells and with each other as much as possible."

Wernar went on to explain that when the groups of final year trainees that came to the Gills for their merchant education, they would need to continue their weaponswork. They would also be told to help with teaching Blane and Hansal as well as any other orphan children fostered with the Gills. "It will be good for the older students as well. Having to teach what they have previously learned themselves will force them to think about it and focus on being sharper so that they can teach correctly."

Tavener and Marcia joined their children in the Collegium dining hall, where their children introduced them to their fellows. Since the children were spread over five years, almost every Trainee present was yearmate to one of their children. Marcia carefully committed all of the children's names to memory. Those who had previously come to visit with the Gill's own children during summer and Midwinter breaks were pleasantly surprised that Marcia and Tavener not only remembered their names, but their Companions' names as well.

In the afternoon, Tavener had business with the quartermaster-major of the Guard concerning purchase of mules. Tavener was a valued supplier of stock. His draft mules were noted for being tractable and calm. In addition, the mules were not prone to unsoundness; their working lives were typically several years longer than mules from other suppliers. The Guard wanted to buy more from the Gills.

For Tavener, the request for more stock presented a problem. He could not sell any more at this time without cutting into his brood stock or cutting off supply to his other customers. He would need time to expand his herds carefully to avoid reducing the quality. He also would have all of the problems of expanding: Buying more grazing land, building more stabling, hiring more hands and trainers as well as finding knowledgeable men and women to supervise them.

But land and new buildings are expensive. Though well off, Tavener's ready cash was insufficient to finance all of it; he would have to borrow money. Tavener's meeting with the chief quartermaster was to firm up the contracts to satisfy the lender.

At the same time as Tavener was negotiating with the quartermaster, Marcia was negotiating with the fabulously wealthy Kalugins, an ancient banking family noted for both their wealth and for fair dealing. The Gills were no fools: They knew that the Kalugin house became wealthy because they were fair. Dishonest or overly hard terms might make a quick profit, but customers treated unfairly would not come back. The long view – and the Kalugins had been banking since the founding of Valdemar – allowed wealth to build over many generations. Few connected the astute business practices of the Kalugins with the fact that their family had produced over sixty Heralds, but Tavener and Marcia realized that a strict family code of honor underlay both. There would be no trick clauses in the loan contract.

Despite Theran's request that the Gills present themselves in the clothes they had arrived in, after their negotiations were done Tavener and Marcia quickly visited some clothing stores in Haven. Knowing they could not pass as nobles or courtiers, they carefully purchased clothing suitable for their rank, albeit of the highest quality. They would appear at Court as prosperous but sober commoners. While not ostentatious, their new clothes would help them avoid the stigma of 'hayseed', at least among the more intelligent of the courtiers present.

The two boys, meanwhile, were being treated to a day at the Collegium by the Gill children, including attending classes. In the Karsite language class, Hansal fascinated the students, who wanted to know what it was like growing up in the land of Valdemar's worst enemy. The instructor had insisted that all of the questions were asked in Karsite, leading to some puzzlement and amusement for Hansal when the Trainees used the wrong word or confused their Karsite syntax. The instructor carefully thanked Hansal and invited him to attend as many of his classes as possible during the visit.

For Blane, the highlight of the afternoon was the visit to the Companions' stable. They were introduced to all of his brothers' and sisters' Companions. Any other Trainees present also introduced their own Companions. Blane, like any Valdemaran child, treasured dreams of becoming a Herald and eagerly petted any Companion he could get close to.

Despite his initial fear, Hansal gradually relaxed around the Companions. He impressed all of the Trainees by remembering the names and recognizing every Companion he met. Eventually the Trainees challenged Hansal by lining up all of their Companions randomly while Hansal covered his eyes. Hansal went down the line, naming all of them correctly.

Both boys' eyes went wide when they met Rolan, who came into the stable to be tacked up with Alderian, the Kings' Companion, before the King and the Kings' Own rode them to an official ceremony down in the city. Blane, being Valdemaran by birth, knew many of the stories about the Companion to the Kings' Own. Hansal, not steeped in Valdemaran tradition, seemed nevertheless aware that Rolan was very special and actually bowed to the great stallion, much to the amusement of the Trainees and the other Companions.

In the evening, they had another family dinner at the Companions' Bell, this time joined by several of their children's yearmates. Marcia noted with silent amusement that Heike and Jamis paid careful attention to each other. At least it was silent until it caught the attention of Payne and his yearmate Sarem, who could not resist teasing the couple. Heike and Jamis endured the raillery until Marcia firmly squelched the young mischief-makers.

Before the children could return to the Collegium, Pena took her parents aside and briefed them on what to expect at Court the next day. She let them know that there would be formal oaths required in response to questions asked, but that they were encouraged to put the oaths in their own words, so long as the formal questions were directly answered. "Your own words will give the oaths more sincerity. Your intent matters as much as the words themselves." She explained.

The next morning, the family once again presented themselves at the gate. Tavener and Marcia were dressed in their new clothes, still nervous about being presented at Court. Pena met them once again and led them to the Great Hall in the New Palace, where the official Court was being held that morning. Pena had been briefed by Jedin and took her parents to a quiet corner of the Great Hall, where they could wait until called before the King.

Pena stayed with them while the courtiers assembled to await the arrival of the King and Queen. The couple kept silent, carefully observing the movements and interactions of the ostentatiously dressed nobility.

There was a loud, ostentatious sniff behind them. "Who brought these hayseeds in?" A middle aged lord said from one side, to the amused titters of several of his associates.

Before Tavener or Marcia could react, another voice boomed loudly from the other side. "Tavener and Marcia Gill are gentlepersons from my Duchy." Duke Simeon announced. "They are highly valued subjects of Valdemar, here at the King's express command to be recognized for their services. They are honorable, honest, thoughtful and considerate – all qualities which you conspicuously lack Lord Lakis Corbie. I happen to know that the King yesterday offered Master Gill a seat on the Royal Council. I note that the King has not made a similar offer to you, despite your earnest pursuit of that position."

Lord Corbie flushed and turned away.

The Duke was dressed more formally than when the Gills had previously met him. His hair and beard were now neatly combed and he wore a silver ducal coronet on his brow. Although his clothes were made of costly fabrics, he wore only the coronet –which was a silver band adorned only with a lozenge bearing his family arms – and a large jeweled star on his breast denoting his rank. His cloak and surcoat were embroidered with an intricate design of thistles and roses in green and yellow thread.

Tavener bowed and Marcia curtseyed to the Duke, who replied with a bow-to-an-equal, which raised the eyebrows of nearby courtiers.

"The King did not really offer me a seat on the Council…" Tavener began.

"Ah! But he was planning to do so." The Duke interrupted. "Until you gave him a good and cogent reason for not putting you on Council. He told me in the Lesser Council this morning that, if you hadn't already undertaken the task you have been offered, he might have insisted despite your objection."

Tavener raised an eyebrow. "You know what Marcia and I have been asked to do?"

The Duke nodded in confirmation. "I was tasked with introducing you to one of the Heralds who would be bringing the Trainees to your home."

"Tavener and Marcia Gill, may I introduce you to my eldest son, Herald Dael Marduk." The Duke puffed his chest out with pride as he gestured to a young man in Heraldic White standing beside him.

Dael Marduk was the image of his father: Big and solid with thick black hair, lacking only his father's beard. Dael was fit and very obviously in the best of health. The only surprise was that his right leg ended in a wooden 'foot' and he carried a cane to help balance himself as he walked.

"Honored to meet you Master and Mistress Gill." The young Herald shook their hands firmly. Noticing the Gills' surreptitious glances at his missing foot, he added "Alas, an unfortunate encounter with a pirate gang near Lake Evendim. Fortunately, Faella was able to get me to a healer before I lost too much blood, despite injuries of her own. Although she did pause long enough to stomp the pirate's brains out." He grinned at the grim joke.

"However, that is why I am now an instructor at the Collegium and judge at the City Court rather than riding circuit." Dael sounded wistful.

"You prefer to be on circuit?" Marcia asked.

The young man grinned broadly. "Loved it. There is nothing I enjoy more than the open air and the quiet countryside. Give me a land dispute between two peasants any day over nobles clawing each other for position. My brother Ismay enjoys the court much more than I do and has a better grasp of politics. He will be a much better Duke than I ever would."

"Your father mentioned that you were one of the Heralds who would accompany the Trainees." Tavener said. "Who else/"

"Probably one of the Weaponsmaster's seconds to keep the youngsters on top of their training. Being final year students, they will be expected to keep their weaponswork up to a very high standard." Tavener got the sense that the young Herald was not sharing all that he knew.

At that moment, there was a stir. Herald Jedin emerged from behind the dais and announced in a loud voice. "Their Majesties King Theran and Queen Fyllis." As the Royal couple entered behind Jedin, all present bowed or curtseyed until they were seated on their thrones.

As Tavener straightened, a page pressed a note into his hand. _"You will be called immediately after the official announcements. Be ready when I call for those summoned at the King's Pleasure. – Jedin."_

The King stood. Glancing occasionally at a list in his hand, he announced several recent decisions of the Royal Council.

Gesturing at an empty chair to his left, Theran announced that Herald Prince Clevis, Heir to the Throne, was now returning from Rethwellan, where he had successfully completed some negotiations on behalf of Valdemar, There would be a fete in Clevis' honor upon his return, after which the Heir would be taking a month's respite from official duties.

Once the announcements were concluded, Herald Jedin called out. "It is now the King's pleasure to recognize several of his subjects for their service and to make some official appointments.

"Master Tavener Gill and Mistress Marcia Gill stand forth and present yourselves before King Theran and Queen Fyllis."

The Gills invoked their meditation skills to keep a calm appearance as Pena and Dael escorted them to stand five paces before the dais. "Do exactly as Pena and I do." Whispered Dael as they approached the Royal Pair.

When they reached the appointed spot, Dael genuflected and Pena made a deep curtsey. Tavener and Marcia smoothly matched the two Heralds, confounding those courtiers who expected the 'commoners' to be clumsy. Tavener, watching Dael from the corner of his eye, was impressed that the man managed the genuflection despite the handicap of the wooden foot.

When the Gills straightened, the King rose from his throne. "It has come to Our attention that certain orphan children were lacking foster parents appropriate to their needs. It has also come to Our attention that Herald Trainees were in need of education as to the commerce of Our Kingdom. We are pleased to announce that We have now discovered a couple who can ably meet those needs.

"Master and Mistress Gill, who now stand before Us, are the remarkable parents of no less than nine of our Heralds and Trainees. One of those, sadly, has already given her life in the service of Valdemar."

A rustle of whispers went through the Court as the nobles reacted to the news that one family had produced so many Heralds.

"We have therefore asked of Master and Mistress Gill, and they have agreed, to undertake the fostering of these orphans.

"As they have also been successful as merchants and traders, they are as familiar with the commercial affairs of Valdemar as they are with the lives of Heralds. They are thus well suited to assist in the education of our Herald Trainees in matters of trade.

"It is therefore Our Pleasure to Commission them as Special Guardians at the King's Pleasure and also as Auxiliary Instructors to Herald's Collegium. In those capacities, they are under Our Protection. Interference with their performance of those duties shall carry the same penalties as interference with any other Officer of the Crown."

The King looked directly at the Gills. "Tavener and Marcia Gill, in Our Presence and in the Presence of the Royal Council and Assembled Nobility of Valdemar, do you accept Our Commission/"

The assembled courtiers murmured once more as the blue glow of the Truth Spell surrounded the Gills, who were themselves unaware of it.

"We do accept, Your Majesty, with greatest humility and respect." Tavener answered. He and Marcia bowed.

"And to you swear to care for and instruct those sent to you in the meaning and spirit of Valdemar, its customs, its ways and its laws so that they, in turn, may bring that meaning and spirit to Our Subjects?"

"We do swear to give care, instruction, love and guidance in the meaning and spirit of Valdemar, its laws and its people." Tavener said.

"We swear this with all our hearts, as we swear ourselves to uphold the Laws and Ways of Valdemar." Marcia added beside him.

"Well and truly spoken!" Queen Fyllis spoke from her husband's side. The Court applauded with her.

"As Our Queen has said, so let it be recorded. Your Oaths are accepted." Theran agreed with a nod of his head. The Gills bowed once more as the glow of the Truth Spell disappeared.

Theran held up a hand. "Before you leave us, there are one or two other matters I wish to add." The Gills showed surprise. "We note that a village has grown up around the enterprises you have founded. The village has neither name nor charter."

Theran waved Jedin forward with two pieces of parchment in his hand, both embossed with the Royal Seal. Jedin presented them to Marcia.

"We now present you with a Charter for the Village, which We have given the provisional name of Gillhold. We also present you with an appointment of Mistress Marcia Gill as interim Mayor of said Village. The people of Gillhold shall vote before Midwinter to decide on a permanent name of their liking and elect a Mayor and Council of their own choice."

Blushing, Tavener and Marcia bowed yet again. "We are pleased to accept these on behalf of the village." Marcia said.

"There is yet one final matter." Theran announced. "A matter which has been decided not by Us and our Council, but by the Companions of Valdemar themselves."

Theran signaled Seneschal Greeley, who stood next to Jedin on his right. Greeley rapped his staff firmly twice. "Admit the Companions to the King and the Queen to the Court."

The great ceremonial doors at the end of the hall swung open to reveal two Companions, both groomed and braided to perfection, saddled and barded in their most formal tack. Servants quickly unrolled a sturdy carpet from the door to the foot of the dais so that the Companion's hooves would not score the polished and inlaid wood. The carpet also made the footing less slippery for the two Companions.

The two Companions entered in a high-stepping trot, which shook their bridle bells so that they chimed loudly while the Companions moved up the carpet. The two moved in perfect unison, each matching the other's stride exactly. When they reached the Gills, the Companions moved up beside them while Pena and Dael move outward to make room.

The Companions stopped beside the Gills, their hoofbeats ceasing at the exact same moment so that they stood squarely on either side of the couple.

"Companion Alderian and Companion Sofana will represent the Companions of Valdemar." Seneschal Greeley announced.

The King and Queen walked forward towards their Companions. As they stepped down from the dais, Dael whispered "Do not bow." Tavener and Marcia barely caught themselves.

King's Own Herald Jedin stepped to the middle of the dais and addressed the Court. "It is the decision of the Companions of Valdemar that Tavener Gill and Marcia Gill be recognized as Friends of the Companions, with the attendant courtesies and insignia appropriate to that rank."

An excited murmur went through the crowd. In the entire history of Valdemar, less than a score of people had been given the rank "Friend of the Companions". Only the Companions could confer the rank. The rank was higher than knighthood. It carried with it the privilege of an automatic right to petition directly to the Monarch as well as the right to attend meetings of the Royal Council and vote. Unlike other councilors, they were not beholden to the Monarch and could choose when and when not to attend meetings.

The sole insignia of the Friends of the Companions was a white cloak, with the sigil of the Windrider embroidered on the left breast. Attached to Alderian and Sofana's saddle horns were two such cloaks. Theran and Fyllis went to their respective Companions and untied the cloaks, which they draped around Tavener's and Marcia's shoulders.

Once done, the King and Queen made the bow-to-equals to them. Flushing, Tavener and Marcia returned the Royal bows. The Royal couple returned to their thrones.

"Now, bow to the Companions." Dael whispered from the side.

The couple bowed deeply to the Companions. Stretching their left fore hooves forward and bending their right legs so their knees almost touched the ground, Alderian and Sofana curved their necks so that their noses touched their outstretched legs, bowing gracefully in return.

All four now faced the King and Queen once more. Tavener, Marcia, Dael and Pena all genuflected once more while the Companions repeated their bows. The King and Queen nodded acceptance before all six turned and proceeded back down the carpet towards the Ceremonial door.

Along each side, the courtiers applauded politely, with the exception of Lord Lakis Corbie and his coterie. As they approached where Lakis stood, he muttered loudly about 'fancy trained horses'.

Alderian began to prance. Tavener glanced at him and caught a wicked glint in the Companion's blue eye as he curveted slightly, aimed his backside at Lord Lakis, lifted his tail and broke wind loudly into the Lord's face.

The Court dissolved in gales of laughter, Duke Simeon roaring loudest of all. On the dais, Jedin doubled over and the Queen buried her face in Theran's sleeve while her shoulders shook with mirth. Only Theran refrained from laughing, biting his lip while he visibly fought to restrain himself. Tavener and Marcia gripped each other's hands and looked down, not daring to catch each other's eyes while they choked back their own laughter.

The humiliated Lord Lakis fled the chamber by a side door as even his own coterie joined in the general merriment.

The quick witted Seneschal rapped the floor with his staff and called out "Companion Alderian has called for a brief recess." The assembled nobility redoubled their laughter. Accepting the chance to escape, Theran and Fyllis gratefully fled to their antechamber. As the doors closed behind them, Theran's howls of laughter burst out. Greeley himself turned to the wall and buried his face in his arms.

As soon as the great doors closed behind them, Tavener flung his arms around Alderian's neck and kissed the stallion. "My Lord, My Lord, My Lord," he said to the King's Companion, "even if a thousand Heralds were to swear to it, no one not present today will ever believe what happened when I came to Court." As he released Alderian, the stallion struck a pose of innocence while Sofana snorted her amusement.

Tavener and Marcia bowed once more to the two Companions, who nodded before gracefully striding away.

Looking around, they spotted Pena and Dael, both of whom leaned against the wall, still gasping with laughter. "I have so wanted to see that pompous ass put in his place." Dael managed to gasp out. "I thank the Twain I was there to see it."

The great door opened slightly and Duke Simeon slipped out, still chuckling as tears ran down his face. "Lakis won't dare show his face in Court for a year." The Duke said. "And no one will ever take him seriously again. Good riddance."

Still smiling, Dael looked thoughtful. "If he had any sense, he would stay at Court, brazen it out, take the mockery for however long it lasted and work to re-establish himself."

Duke Simeon eyed his son. "Thus speaks the boy who says he does not like Court politics."

Dael shrugged. "I understand Court politics. Ismay's better than I am, though. Just because I understand it doesn't mean I have to like it."

"True." The Duke said. "Still, you are right. That would be the sensible thing to do. Fortunately for us, and unfortunately for him, Lakis has no sense."

Duke Simeon turned back to the Gills. "It seems that, despite your wishes, the Companions want you on the Royal Council." Briefly, he explained to them what their new rank meant; emphasizing that each of them now had a vote on the Royal Council. "Lucky for you, you get to decide when you want to attend. You never have to appear at all if you choose not to." He waved at Pena. "Your daughter can explain all the details."

"And now, if you will forgive me, I wish to talk with my son for a few minutes." The Duke and his son shook hands with the Gills. Putting his hand on his son's shoulder, the Duke walked away with Dael, occasional snorts of laughter drifting back as they went.

Pena took her parents to the Collegium library. She found a book on Valdemaran Court Precedence and Rank, turned to the chapter on "Friends of the Companions".

"This will explain what you need to know." She said. All around the library, students in Trainee gray stared at the Gills and whispered to each other what their Companions had relayed to them.

Deciding that their highest priority at that moment was to understand the role that had been thrust upon them, Tavener and Marcia sat down at one of the tables to study the book. Using the notepaper, pens and ink supplied for the students, the Gills made notes of anything that seemed important. They also noted the title and author of the book so they could buy their own copy from one of the booksellers in Haven.

They had been there for a candlemark when a page found them with a note. _"There is a Council meeting after luncheon today. I would be pleased if you would attend. Come to the main door of the Great Hall. Dean Tuck will meet to there to show you the way to the Council Chamber. – T."_

Nervous thrills chased up and down Tavener's spine. Here was a note in the King's hand addressed personally to him and his wife! The page seemed to be awaiting a reply. Despite his excitement, he quickly penned a reply. _"We will be there at Your Pleasure. – T & M." _The page took the note and ran off.

Pena reappeared just before luncheon to escort her parents back to the Collegium common room. Today they shared a table with the instructors and Heralds who were resting between circuits. Tavener noted that one had her left arm in a sling and most of the others had scars.

The Heralds questioned the Gills on matters of trade, taking a genuine interest in their replies and asking shrewd follow up questions. From the tenor of the questioning and the Herald's eagerness to learn their thoughts, Tavener and Marcia began to feel more relaxed about their decision to assist in the training of the final year students.

As the luncheon ended, Pena led them back to the door of the Great Hall, where Dean Tuck met them to escort them to the Council chamber.

The nobles on council behaved exactly as Tavener predicted and ignored the 'commoners' as much as possible. The representatives of the various trade guilds were more respectful.

Tavener noted that there were at least four factions on the council: The Heralds and the Deans of the Collegia, the Trades and Guilds, and two factions of the Nobles: One centered around Duke Simeon, which tended to support the Herald faction and one centered around Count Tamas Westmore, whose members seemed intent on their self interest and rank to the exclusion of all else.

Being new to the council, the Gills said very little and voted with the King's Own on every matter, except for matters involving court protocol, when they pleaded ignorance and abstained. Their admission that they did not understand court protocol earned them contemptuous looks from Count Tamas' faction and supportive glances from Queen Fyllis, Duke Simeon, and Bard Shilohin. Dean Tuck leaned over to them to murmur "Well done. Best to stay out of it if it isn't your concern."

Tavener spoke at length only once, to argue against a proposal to put a tariff on hides imported from Rethwellan. Baron Teamet Pace, who had made the motion, challenged Tavener, pointing out that the Gills raised cattle and had an interest in a tannery; surely the Gills would benefit from the protective tariff?

Tavener wondered how Teamet had learned that in the two candlemarks since he had been given a place on council. "I would benefit, but only at the expense of the leatherworkers and the shoemakers." Several of the Guildsmen voiced vigorous agreement. "I do not want their trade because they are forced to deal with me. I want their trade because I give them good hides at good prices." The Guildsmen beamed at Tavener.

"If all we do on this council is seek our own advantage and every tradesman seeks to shut out those who can sell better goods at better prices, I and every other Valdemaran will be poorer in the long run.

"Finally, I note the announcement this morning that Prince Clevis is even now returning from Rethwellan where he negotiated successfully on behalf of Valdemar. It would hardly show good faith with Rethwellan if we were to slap a tariff on their goods so soon after making an agreement with them."

"Well said on all points." Jedin agreed. "My vote will go against the motion along with Master Gill's."

"As will mine." Theran added.

As the combined votes of the King and the King's Own could veto any motion, Teamet withdrew his proposal. Tamas shrugged at his supporter.

The rest of the meeting was devoted to arguments concerning the need for Prince Clevis to marry and beget his own heir. The argument was obviously an old one. The King, Queen, King's Own and many of the others seemed utterly bored by what was obviously a rehash of arguments they had heard many times before.

Only Duke Simeon seemed to get any pleasure out of it, targeting members of Count Tamas' faction with subtle – and some not so subtle – taunts about daughters of their houses. The Duke found it humorous, but many of the nobles did not hesitate to besmirch the candidates favored by rivals, including rivals within their own faction.

The Gills said nothing, marveled at the pettiness of the supposed leaders of the Kingdom, and wished the King would put an end to the quarrelling.

Finally, Theran did so. Pointing to the young woman seated to the left of the Queen. "There is no shortage of heirs. Herald Princess Chloe has ably substituted as Heir for her brother in his absence and can carry the line if Clevis does not. After her, so can Matiran, Poulan, and Isabeau.

"For now, it suits us to keep Valdemar's neighbors chasing after an alliance marriage and dangling trinkets before us. If the Council will remember, that is one of the reasons that we sent Clevis on the embassy to Rethwellan."

The King ordered the session ended and withdrew. Herald Jedin took Tavener and Marcia aside to invite them to attend the High Feast that evening. Smiling at their obvious dismay, Jedin was relentless. "It gets worse. Your elevation by the Companions this morning means that you will be the Guests of Honor and will be seated at the High Table between the Acting Heir, Princess Chloe, and her sister Healer Princess Molena."

Jedin tried to reassure them that they would have no difficulty conversing with the Royal Family, but the Gills were nonetheless filled with dread. The only point that Jedin insisted on was that they must wear the cloaks denoting their rank until just before they took their seats. Otherwise he told them to do exactly what the Heralds seated at the table just below did.

Despite their trepidations, the Gills thoroughly enjoyed the High Feast, surprising themselves with the ease they enjoyed the conversation with the Princesses, Herald Jedin and even the King and Queen, who took genuine interest in their affairs.

Marcia and Princess Molena had a particularly intense conversation about treatment of wounds. The Princess had learned that Marcia had been an Auxiliary Healer at White Foal Pass and continued to practice emergency healing for the village when there was no one with the Healing Gift available. She wanted to hear about how Marcia's experiences differed from her own in the training situation at Healers' Collegium.

The princess was passionate about her calling, showing no envy of her brothers and sisters who had been Chosen. Molena took notes of suggestions that Marcia made for improvements for the Bear Packs supplied to auxiliary healers. (Tradition said that the name "Bear Pack" was taken from the use-name of the inventor, an ungifted Healer from the reign of King Kiril.)

The food and entertainment was beyond anything that the Gills had ever experienced, with delicious courses interspersed with performances of music, dancers and acrobats. The evening passed so quickly that only when the King, Queen and Princesses finally withdrew did Tavener and Marcia note how late it was.

Their finally surprise of the day was to find that a coach waited to take them and the sleeping Blane and Hansal back to the inn. The two boys had had dinner with the trainees and spent the evening with the Gill children until they had fallen asleep in the beds of Daffyd and Payne, who had been conscripted for foal watch.

The Gills spent one more day in Haven, concluding their negotiations with the Guard and with the Kalugins. Blane and Hansal spent the day with the Heraldic trainees, even attending some of the classes.

Dean Tuck contrived to 'accidentally' meet the two boys in the Companion's stable. They were happily grooming two Companions whose Chosen were currently in the Healer's Collegium for injuries. Payne and Daffyd had taken them to the stable to introduce them to the new-born colt that they had helped deliver the previous night.

Dean Tuck questioned Hansal and Blane so casually that they were unaware of the assessment he was making. The Dean noted with amusement that Rolan was carefully warding off the attentions of two young Companions who were showing great interest in the boys.

The final day finished with another family dinner, including Heike and Hansal, at the Companion's Bell. The news of the Gill's new rank had spread by this point and their meal had been in the private room reserved for Heralds and their guests. The very impressed host served them himself, going to great lengths to serve the finest meal he could.

The Heralds who normally frequented the Companion's Bell acknowledged the family politely, but otherwise respected their privacy.

At the end, they embraced their children and Heike and sent them back to the Palace.

Although tired from the three hectic days, the Gills packed their bags for an early departure before going to bed themselves.


	2. Chapter 2

The return home was marred by an encounter with Ancar Kriegmangal as the family passed through Three Rivers.

They had just entered the West Gate and were crossing Thieves Market when Ancar suddenly appeared in front of the trap. Grabbing the reins of the mule, he pointed at Blane "I want my son!" He shouted.

As Tavener pushed his palfrey forward to drive him off, Ancar moved to the opposite side of the trap, where he grabbed Blane's arm.

"Let go of me!" Blane screamed.

Marcia stood and lashed out with the driving whip, striking Ancar on the face. Releasing the boy, Ancar grabbed the whip, attempting to pull it out of her hand. From his seat on the trap, Blane kicked at Ancar, hitting his shoulder.

By this time, Tavener had reached Ancar. Booting his palfrey, he knocked the assailant flat. As Ancar scrambled to get up, the City Watch closed in, pinning him. At the same time, three men appeared and placed themselves between Ancar and the family as a protective guard.

The watch lieutenant clattered up on her horse just as her men lifted Ancar to his feet with his arms pinned behind him. After confirming that the Gills were unharmed, she turned back to Ancar. "Ancar Kriegmangal, you are charged with assault."

Ancar struggled with his captors. "Charge them with child-stealing. They have my son. I want my son." He shouted, spittle flecking his lips as he spoke.

The lieutenant stared at him coldly. "I was present at the hearing. You are not his father. Forget this stupid notion." Gesturing to her men she said. "Take him to the cells, it smells like he has been drinking. A night in gaol may help clear his head."

As the guards took Ancar away, the lieutenant turned back to the family. "Lieutenant Nickal at your service. My apologies, Mistress and Master Gill, we will try to keep a better eye on that man in the future."

"Thank you for your help, Lieutenant Nickal." Tavener said. As the lieutenant rode away, he turned to the three men who had come to help, whom he recognized as the innkeeper Harald Blackthorne and two of his sons, Oakley and Parock. "Thank you as well, Harald. What brings you to Thieves Market today?"

Harald grinned broadly, showing the gap where two of his teeth had been knocked out by an angry patron. "Me and my boys are just here to buy some more tables and chairs. I've finished the new room and need furniture. An' it weren't nothin' t' help ye. All we did was stand here in case he got away from the watch. That man looks like a nasty piece of work, if ye ask me. I'd throw him out o' my place as soon as I saw his mug."

Tavener grinned back. "Well, my thanks again, Harald. We'll see you back in the village." Turning his horse, he led the family through the market.

Once they were out of the noisy market and into a relatively quiet street, Hansal spoke up softly. "That man was very strange." He said.

"How so?" Marcia asked, her arm still around Blane's shoulder.

"Well, I usually know when someone is lying." Hansal said. Remembering what Herald Pol had told him, Tavener felt a prickling down his spine as he rode quietly ahead.

"And?" Marcia prompted.

"When he said he was Blane's father, it was like he was both lying and telling the truth." Blane stared wide-eyed at his friend.

"I don't understand." Marcia said.

"In a way, he knows he is not Blane's father. But it was like he wanted to believe that he was. Like he was making himself believe it."

Trying to be as casual as possible, Tavener looked back at Hansal. "Was there anything else?" He asked.

"He was thinking about money. He wants money and Blane is somehow part of that." Hansal sounded confused. Blane reached across Marcia's lap and took Hansal's hand. Both boys were obviously shaken by the experience.

Tavener and Marcia exchanged a worried glance. Ancar saw the boy, at least in part, as a key to the estate. This would not be the end of the matter.

The last candlemarks of the journey home were silent. Only the sight of the village lifted their spirits as it came into view.

The citizens of the newly chartered village of Gillhold were delighted with the Royal recognition. They quickly voted to keep the name Gillhold and Marcia became the first mayor. Bartram Austrebon, Widow Clay and Harald Blackthorne were elected to the village council.

Two sennights after Tavener and Marcia returned home, the first group of Heraldic students arrived for their introduction to the world of commerce.

Marcia and Tavener had told the villagers to expect the new arrivals and told them the Heralds had asked that there be no fanfare. Despite this and despite the cold of late fall, the villagers turned the street into a minor festival for the day. The cavalcade of Companions with their riders in white and grey passed through a cheering mob that had turned out to see them pass.

The Heralds took it with casual grace, being accustomed to the fuss that ordinary Valdemarans in outlying villages made of Heralds. The trainees tried to look mature, but could not resist a little showing off to the crowd.

The cheering continued until the last Companion had turned down the lane leading to the Gills' home. The villagers went back to their impromptu fair and supplied each other with wild speculations as to the significance of the visit.

The noise in the lane as the group approached brought Tavener out of the back mule yard, where he had been discussing the broodstock with Piotr Jeslen.

Seven trainees and two full heralds entered the yard just as Tavener came out from the mule yard. Tavener recognized Herald Dael. After all had dismounted, Dael introduced the other as Herald Alessander. Tavener noted a slight hesitation as Dael named his co-instructor, whose appearance set Tavener's mind to working as to why Alessander looked familiar.

Dael introduced the students: Four girls and three boys, whom he identified as Phedra, Zesis, Toni, Nandi, Bose, Corwin and Lander. Tavener fixed their names in his memory, together with the names of their Companions, whom he insisted they introduce, although he apologized to the Companions that he would likely not identify them correctly without their Chosen nearby.

Tavener noted that the seven trainees formed a defensive circle centered on Alessander. Their postures confirmed what Tavener had already guessed: That he was playing host to the Crown Prince. 'Alessander', Tavener remembered, was one of the long string of given names bestowed on the Crown Prince at the time of his birth.

_Very well,_ Tavener thought, _if His Highness wishes to be incognito, I can play the role of innocent host. I'll warn Marcia, although she'll pick it up faster than I did. I must remember never to even think of him as 'Clevis' while he is here._

With the introductions completed, Tavener showed his guests into Companions' Hall. The trainees and their instructors were all suitably impressed with their accommodations. The Companions expressed their gratitude through their Chosen.

"Bakun was looking forward to coming." Herald Alessander said. "He says Krias' stories about your home sounded like someone was finally treating Companions with proper deference."

Tavener smiled at the stallion, who was slightly more heavily muscled than the average Companion. "It is not deference, sir, but proper hospitality. The law says Companions are people, why should I act as though they were not?"

Noting the way that Bakun cocked an ear at his Chosen, Tavener turned back to Alessander. "I believe he is saying 'I told you so.' "

"Exactly right!" The Herald exclaimed with a laugh that Tavener thought was remarkably like his father's. "How did you know?"

"His body language and posture." Tavener replied. "Reading that is one of those merchant skills I will be teaching your students."

The visitors were soon settled in to their quarters, although Tavener suspected that "Boys on the right, girls on the left" wouldn't last a dozen breaths beyond lights out.

Tavener escorted the group on a quick tour of the homestead, including the barns and mule yard.

Lastly, he showed them to the training yard he had built for his children. Half of it was roofed and the floor was sand. There was only one stout wall where targets could be set up. The rest was open to the elements, except for netting strung from poles "In case weapons do not go in the intended direction." Tavener added, drawing a laugh from all of them.

The sole concessions to comfort were a brick stove along the wall and the fact that the wall itself was placed on the south-west side, most commonly the windward side.

"I like it." Alessander pronounced. He glanced at the trainees. "Having to practice in the open makes it closer to what you will face in the field." His grin of satisfaction was not mirrored in the face of his students.

Tavener reflected that, aside from the Court functions and diplomatic missions, making a weaponsmaster-second out of the Prince would give him a real job that went beyond "Wait until father dies so I can assume the throne." The stories that had been told of Theran said that he was legendary as a fighter; it was logical to suppose that his children were good with weapons as well.

At that moment, Blane and Hansal ran into the training yard at their usual pell-mell pace. The boys stopped dead at the sight of the Heralds and trainees.

Tavener called the boys over to introduce them.

Both boys greeted the visitors dutifully, although Hansal paused and gave Alessander a curious look. Hansal opened his mouth as if to speak, thought better of it, and said nothing.

Nandi noticed the hesitation. Stepping forward, she said. "Hansal has a remarkable gift for recognizing Companions. Let me show you."

A few moments later, three Companion mares trotted into the training yard.

Looking at Hansal, she said. "I know you met Etosha when you visited Haven. Pick her out from the others."

Hansal looked at the three mares, then unhesitatingly went to the one on the right. Bowing formally, he greeted her. "Hello, Etosha. I am pleased to meet you again." Corwin and Toni then introduced their Companions, Safira and Merial.

From where he stood near the two instructors, Tavener noticed as 'Alessander' leaned over and say softly to Dael: "I think it is part of his Truthsay gift. No wonder he looked at me the way he did when he was introduced."

Tavener was making a note to take Hansal aside when Alessander stepped forward. "My Companion Bakun would like to meet you too, Hansal." The stallion trotted into the yard so promptly that Tavener deduced that Alessander had called him when Hansal first reacted.

To everyone's surprise, Alessander lifted Hansal up and placed him on Bakun's bare back. Hansal's mouth opened wide in surprise, then he got a thoughtful look. He stared at Bakun's head for several moments before abruptly looking at the Herald. Before he could speak, Bakun began moving. The stallion walked around the training yard for a moment before moving into a trot.

After bouncing for a few strides, Hansal stretched, lifting his chest and dropping his heels as far as he could around Bakun's powerful barrel. After a moment, the boy seemed to settle into the trot and began to move with the stallion's rhythm. Bakun smoothly changed into a canter, taking Hansal on a full circuit of the yard before slowing to a halt beside Alessander.

Hansal's face wore an expression of bliss as Alessander helped him down. Hansal hugged the Companion, babbling thanks. Finally composing himself, the boy turned to the Herald. He bowed deeply. "Thank you Herald Alessander, that was wonderful." The boy added a saucy wink before he turned back to Bakun and thanked the Companion with the same formality.

"You are welcome, Hansal." The Herald responded. "Bakun says you will be a very good rider."

"My friend Blane has been teaching me on Rolan." Hansal explained, drawing Blane forward. The four companions whickered their laughter. At the puzzled expressions on the faces of the guests, Tavener explained about Blane's pony, drawing a laugh from them all.

Hansal looked at Blane. "I can't believe I got to ride a Companion!" He said.

"I told you there was nothing like it." Blane said. "When Krias let me ride him a couple of times on my own, I wanted to stay there forever."

"I'm sure Krias would be pleased to hear that, Blane." Alessander said. "Now, I wanted to see how you two are doing on those exercises Weaponsmaster Odo gave you."

Leading the boys over to the pells, Alessander put them through the exercises, gently correcting them when necessary. When they had run through the exercises once, he praised their progress and promised to show them some more exercises later on.

While he did so, Tavener showed the others where the wood was kept for the stove. There were also a pot and some mugs along with grounds for making kava.

Leaving the boys to continue practice, Alessander rejoined the group, which moved on to Tavener's office. There, the students were shown the ledgers for Tavener's various businesses and promised that they would begin studying those ledgers the next morning.

It was nearing dinner time. Tavener invited Hansal to stay with them for dinner. Regretfully, Hansal declined, saying he had to go home for the Sundescending prayer.

Tavener watched the boy run down the lane. He would ask Bartram to grant his son permission to stay some other night.

Before the company all gathered for dinner, Tavener grabbed a moment with the two Heralds to get their agreement for a small addition to the training plan. They were startled by his suggestion, but readily agreed.

At dinner, Tavener was surprised when Zesis and Bose took it on themselves to help with serving. Dael explained the Collegium tradition of the trainees having chores. All of the trainees would pitch in according to a schedule arranged amongst themselves. The Gills had always expected their own children to help with chores, so their children's helpfulness on their visits home had been expected.

Blane, hearing this, said he would help with the dishes, drawing smiles around the table.

Marcia questioned the trainees about their families and learned a little about them. Tavener expected she would have their full history before they left. The trainees' backgrounds ranged from Zesis, who was the daughter of a shepherd living near White Foal Pass, to Lander, third son of Baron Teamet Pace. From Lander's reluctance to speak, Tavener deduced that there was some friction between father and son.

With the consent of the two instructors, Tavener offered wine to the trainees and the Companions. The acceptance by the Companions elicited the same bemusement among their Chosen that Coram had shown before.

Only Corwin refused the wine, explaining that as a Sojourner, he was prohibited from taking any intoxicant. His Companion Safira showed no such restraint.

Hearing this, Tavener spoke up. "I have no wish to offend you, Corwin, but I have spoken with Herald Dael and Herald Alessander. I had intended to get all of you drunk."

The trainees looked shocked. The Companions whickered. Tavener explained. "I think it is important that you all learn to feel and recognize the effects of overindulgence. Even if you are careful, it is possible to drink too much simply from inattention. I have done this with my own children, so I am not simply using you to test a pet idea of my own."

He stretched a hand out to Corwin. "Even if you never drink knowingly, someone could slip something into your kava or juice. You need to know what it does to you in order to catch it before it catches you. If you learn to recognize it, you can protect yourself or at least cope with the effects if you do drink too much."

Corwin looked dubious. "Patriarch Motune is Chief Priest of the Sojourner Temple in Three Rivers." Tavener added. "If I get an approval from him, would you be willing?"

Looking thoughtful, the young man said. "We Sojourners do not consider drinking a sin – at least, most of us don't – it is more of a failing. If the Patriarch said it was appropriate for me to do this, I would be satisfied."

"Thank you." Tavener replied. "I will send him a note in the morning. We should have a reply in time for tomorrow evening. As Rest Day is the day after that, it would give you time to recuperate. As I said, I intend to get you drunk. Not just tiddily, but completely, stinking, passing out drunk. Enough to give you a hangover in the morning."

He looked around the table severely. "You are all fine young men and women. I know this will be uncomfortable. Like most people, you will probably embarrass yourself with things you say and do while drunk. The hangover will be unpleasant. But this is something you must know first hand so that you can be prepared."

The trainees looked at one another apprehensively before they quietly agreed.

From his place beside Tavener, Herald Alessander grinned wolfishly before adding. "Actually, I may hold a weapons practice the next morning. Having to fight while hung over is something else you need to be ready to do."

Tavener bit his lip to avoid laughing at the trainees' looks of dismay. The Companions showed no such discretion as their amused neighs and whickers filled the room.

Herald Alessander feigned surprise at the trainees' looks. "What! You think your enemies will be so considerate as to allow you time to recuperate?"

Their sour looks and sighs made it clear that the trainees had heard of their enemies' lack of consideration on too many previous occasions to consider protesting.

Taking some pity, Marcia said. "There are some simple remedies I will show you that will help. Short of a treatment from a full Healer, I cannot eliminate the headache and other pains with my herbs and willowbark tea, but I can show you how to dull them down to the point where you can function."

"Thank you, Mistress Gill." Trainee Nandi spoke for all of them. "We've all seen people wine-sick. I've wondered why they drank so much. Most of us have had some wine or ale, but our Companions have always warned us when we have had enough, so we've not felt the worst effects. From what I've seen in others, wine-sickness looks very unpleasant.

Anything you can do to dull the effects will be appreciated."

The other six trainees murmured their agreement.

As the meal ended, Corwin and Phedra helped clear the dishes and, to the delight of the cook and her helper, washed them. As he had promised, Blane joined them.

The other trainees fetched their books and settled in to study. Corwin and Phedra joined them once they were done with the dishes.

Marcia gave permission to Blane to stay up with the trainees, provided he did not disturb their studies. Blane got his notebooks out and practiced his geometry.

Marcia had to meet with her councilors and took the trap into the village to Widow Clay's home, where they usually met. Fortunately, the councilors got along well, so the meeting would take no more than a candlemark.

Tavener and the two Heralds withdrew to his office, where they discussed the plans for Trainees during their stay. Tavener remarked on how dutiful the group was. "You didn't even remind them to get their books out." He said. "They just got them and prepared to study."

Dael smiled. "For the most part, Herald Trainees tend to be a very serious lot. They feel they have to be perfect. We sometimes have to push them to relax."

"Too damned true." Alessander said. "If they make a mistake in their weapons practice, I'm likely to find them in the salle during their free time, drilling themselves in the correct move. One time, I had to ban Lander from the salle for a sennight because he kept obsessing about his stance after Wernar had criticized him. He was working himself to exhaustion and it was affecting his other classes."

"I hope they will take a little time to play and relax while they are here." Tavener said.

"I think just being out of the Collegium will do them some good." Dael replied. "I was thinking of assigning them some point-to-point rides. I'll say it's for practice in cross-country riding and a little orienteering thrown in, but mostly it will be to get them out doing something they enjoy."

Alessander smiled. "I'll probably join them."

Looking at Tavener, he explained. "We are always happiest when we are just able to spend time with our Companions. This will be different than the usual rides in Companions' field. We have all ridden there so much that every pathway is familiar. The change will be good."

The conversation turned to Tavener's past. The two Heralds were too young to have been at White Foal Pass. Both had heard the stories from the point of view of the nobles and the Heralds, but not from the perspective of the common foot soldier.

They listened soberly as Tavener describe Lavan Firestorm's Final Strike. He told them of the terror in seeing the flames that towered to the tops of the mountains, consuming everything. He mentioned how Lieutenant Chase had fought to keep order in his troop despite a gut wound. Tavener told them of his own desire to drop everything and run.

Tavener omitted only his own role in keeping the troop together after Chase had fainted from loss of blood, merely saying that the troop had kept itself together to protect their leader.

"It was only after it was over and we managed to get the Lieutenant and the other injured to the infirmary that I realized I'd pissed myself." Tavener finished, drawing chuckles from the two Heralds.

Both Heralds got the distant look that Tavener knew meant their Companions were speaking to them. The two glanced at one another. Alessander spoke for them. "Bakun has just reminded me that we Heralds and those from noble families at least have an easier time fleeing from a hopeless situation. I'd never thought about that battle from the ordinary foot soldier's point of view."

Tavener teased them slightly. "But that is what you nobles and Heralds are up there for: Stand and hold so we commoners can get away."

Dael gave a sour look. "Having grown up in the nobility, I only wish more of them lived up to that ideal. I've seen too many nobles who would gladly throw the commoners to the wolves to save their own pampered hides."

Changing the subject, Dael asked about Tavener's claim a Companion had saved his life, which Coram had relayed to him.

Tavener told the tale of how a Companion, Berlian, had saved his life when he had been caught in an ambush by infiltrators. Berlian's Chosen, Herald Jasimine, had been in the infirmary from a prior injury, so Berlian had been assisting Lieutenant Chase on a patrol while her Chosen recuperated.

With two Karsites before him, Tavener's back had been undefended. A second pair moved to attack him from behind when Berlian had charged them, killing one outright and breaking the leg of the other. The two facing Tavener, unnerved by the Companion, had panicked. Tavener killed one and the other fled straight into the path of Chase's warhorse.

"After that, I took it on myself to see that Berlian got a proper rubdown and grooming." Tavener finished. "I never thought of Companions as 'just pretty horses' again."

Once Tavener finished, Dael added. "I'd heard that tale from Jasimine. She was my mentor on my internship. She told me how a common trooper had doted on Berlian from the time Berlian had saved his life until they parted company at Three Rivers, where the trooper's company was based. I will write to her to tell her I have met that trooper."

Tavener blushed. "Companions are nice people. Berlian didn't speak to me, of course, but she made it plain that she thought my hesitation about paying court to Marcia was ridiculous."

The others looked blank. "I was grooming Berlian while Jasimine was laid up. I made her my confidant. She had a way of chiding me when I was being silly and consoling me when I was sad. It was odd how just the way she cocked an ear could give me a lecture."

Alessander coughed. "Be glad you can't mindspeak, then. Bakun has given me plenty of lectures that were far more direct than the set of his ears."

_::Perhaps Master Gill is a little more attuned to small nuances.:: _Bakun tweaked his Chosen._ ::You tend to need a mace to drive a point into your thick skull.::_

Alessander rolled his eyes, explaining only that Bakun had delivered him yet another lecture.

The clatter of Marcia's trap as she returned drew the three out into the yard. They helped her unharness the mule and put everything away. Tavener grinned when he saw Alessander give the mule a quick grooming. He wondered what the court gossips would think of the Crown Prince acting as a common groom.

The four returned to Companion's Hall, where the trainees were just putting away their books.

Bose fetched his gittern and entertained the group with a few songs. His deep bass voice resonated in the room as he sang Bard Tyrall's tale of Mags and Dallen in Karse.

At the end of the song, Marcia said "I've heard that song sung before, but this is the first time I've felt Mags' despair when he was captive in Karse."

Bose blushed slightly and explained. "I have a bit of the Bardic gift as well as mindspeech and farsight."

"That Bardic gift will be useful in the field if you ever have to do a bit of spying." Tavener said. "Everybody welcomes minstrels and players."

"Except that the ploy is so well known that a Bard who appears at a critical time is generally assumed to be a spy." Alessander added, and then shrugged. "It still works, though, which is why we use it."

"Which is why I am being drilled not just in Hardornen, Rethwellan and Karsite, but songs in those languages as well." Bose put in.

Bose launched into a Hardornen drinking song. At the second verse, Blane joined in, singing the responsive in his boyish tenor. Bose's eyes widened and he smiled. The others grinned and clapped in time as the song increased in tempo until the final verse, which ended with a tongue twisting burst from both singers.

Everyone cheered and clapped for the singers and the Companions added neighs of approval as Bose and Blane took a bow.

When Blane's bow ended with a yawn, Marcia decided it was time for Blane to go to bed. The Companions rose to their feet, pointedly indicating to their Chosen that it was time for them to retire as well.

Corwin and Phedra gathered the cups and washed them in the kitchen before following the other trainees to their rooms. Tavener bid good night to them all and, once the rest had left, snuffed all but one tiny lamp before going to bed.

For once, Tavener was not the first person up and about the next morning. Instead he found Toni and Lander in the kitchen. The two already had the morning bread baking and kava brewing and were setting the table for the rest.

The morning cook, Lessa Stane, came in moments after Tavener and looked suspiciously at the two trainees. She checked everything they had done. Once satisfied, she divided up the breakfast cooking and got to work.

Knowing how jealous cooks could be of their kitchens, Tavener had been apprehensive about the two unexpected helpers. However, once satisfied that there would be no friction, he took a cup of kava and went to his office to work until breakfast. On his way to the office, he noted that several lights were on in the bedrooms off Companions' Hall, showing that the rest of his guests were rising as well.

Tavener worked for a candlemark, writing some letters to his agents and reading reports. When the sky was finally beginning to brighten with a late fall dawn, he went back to Companions' Hall to join his guests for breakfast. Toni and Lander were just finishing theirs while four others were seated with the two instructors discussing the plans for the day. Marcia and Blane came in just after Tavener. Bose drifted in last, his yawns eliciting taunts from the others about the 'artistic temperment' of bards.

"I think I shall compose a ballad about beds that squeak in the night and the tales they would tell of trainees riding double." He retorted. A couple of the trainees blushed, confirming Tavener's guess that there had been 'visits' after lights out. He saw Dael and Alessander grinning broadly; they were obviously aware of what had gone on.

_Young, healthy, fit and horny. _Tavener thought._ No surprise that they should seek each others' beds. _Marcia caught his eyes, her smile telling him that she had come to the same conclusion.

After breakfast, the trainees and Heralds returned briefly to their rooms before joining Tavener in his office. Corwin and Alessander wrote a note to Patriarch Motune and placed it in a pouch tied around Safira's neck. The Companion could get the message to Three Rivers and back far faster than any other messenger.

Tavener began by explaining how one enterprise had led to another. Raising draft mules had been very seasonal, so he had added beef cattle to his farm. An excess of hides had led to building a tannery. A surplus of hides in Three Rivers had led to building barges to take the hides to Haven. On the return trip, his barges carried cloth from Haven. Other merchants had started using his barges to ship their goods. When there were no hides, his barges carried goods for other merchants. This had led to warehouses in both Haven and Three Rivers. Wanting to move goods upstream on the Terilee from where the Sorne River linked it to Three Rivers had required building a canal around rapids.

A shortage of beet pulp had started him growing beets. In making pulp from the beets, he had to extract sugar, which led to a sugar refinery and another cargo to ship to Haven.

"It's getting to be too much for me to manage from here." Tavener said. "Since I don't want to move my home, I will probably sell the warehouses, barges and the canal within the next few years."

He showed them the ledgers for the various businesses, carefully explaining how each business had its own record of profits (and sometimes losses). "That way, I know if I am not running something properly. If a business is not profitable, then I am wasting time and resources. Let someone else do it who can run it better."

Running through the ledgers, he showed them the myriad expenses that even the simplest business had, from buying supplies to paying taxes. The trainees (and the Heralds) were all somewhat nonplussed by the complexities of commerce, which had heretofore seemed very simple to them: Buy from Tamas, sell to Delia at a profit.

Toni, daughter of a wine seller, was less surprised than the others, although she had been Chosen before she had really begun to learn the family business. "Excuse me, Master Gill, but I note that you charge your tannery the same rate for shipping on your barges that you charge your other customers. Also, you charge your own barges the same toll on the canal that you charge other barge owners. Why do you charge yourself? You own the barges and the canal, why shouldn't you use them for free?"

The others nodded in agreement at Toni's question.

Tavener smiled at her. "That is a good question, Toni. Think of it this way: If I charged my own businesses less than I charge others, I wouldn't know if my tannery or barges were truly profitable." He said. "If I subsidize one of my businesses with the product or service from another, then I don't really show what my true costs are.

Tavener looked very sober for a moment. "However, that hasn't stopped some of my competitors from accusing me of exactly that." He shrugged. "I even brought the Merchants' Council out from Three Rivers last year and showed them my books to prove it wasn't true. That only led to accusations I had bribed the Merchants' Council."

Tavener grinned wolfishly. "Isador Bales, who sits on the Merchants' Council, took exception to the accusation and sued the accusers for libel. He got a nice little judgment against the accusers. It didn't change the accusers' minds, but they are now a little more discreet in their accusations."

The group snickered.

After a candlemark reviewing the ledgers, Tavener took the trainees out to the breeding barns. There they listened as Tavener discussed the selection of new brood stock with Piotr Jeslen, whom he was sending on a buying trip. The trainees were utterly lost as they listened to Tavener and his foreman discuss the merits and deficiencies of numerous bloodlines and how best to combine them with the present stock.

"I can't increase my production at the expense of quality." Tavener explained to the trainees. "I'd lose customers in the long run that way."

After Piotr had gone off, Tavener added. "I have worked with Piotr for nearly twenty years. We agree on the breeding plan. We know and trust each other well enough that I can send him off for a month on a buying trip and rely on him to bring back the stock I need. If you have a good employee, you have to trust him to do the job."

Tavener had to go into the village to visit the tannery and the sugar refinery. Rather than have the entire crew go with him, most of the trainees went with Herald Alessander to the practice yard for weapons work. Only Toni and Corwin plus Herald Dael accompanied Tavener. Tavener and the trainees walked; due to the handicap of his wooden foot, Dael rode Faella bareback for the few hundred yards down the lane.

At the tannery, all donned overcoats and cloth hats to keep the stench off their clothes and out of their hair while Tavener showed them the operation. At first the foreman, Fenrick Malker, was a little nervous under the eyes of the Herald and the trainees, but as Tavener kept strictly on the issues related to the tannery, Fenrick soon ignored their presence. Tavener had a buyer for several Haven harness makers coming in two days and wanted to ensure there would be sufficient stock on hand to select from.

"Do you supply saddlers as well?" Corwin asked as they left.

"I do for ordinary saddles, such as those used in the guard and for common folk." Tavener replied. "But the extra fine grade leather preferred by the nobility takes too much extra work." He nodded at Faella, who followed them to the sugar refinery. "I have sold to the Palace saddlery for the tougher leather in the skirting and base of Companions' saddles, but I don't supply the finer leather of the actual seat."

"You mean I might be riding on some of your leather?" Dael asked in surprise.

"Possibly, but not likely." Tavener said. "I am not one of the regular suppliers. I've only been called upon when none of the regulars have the required grade in stock."

The tour of the sugar refinery was brief. The beet harvest was long over and the year's production was winding down. The last loads were being put on wagons to take to Three Rivers. Most of the sugar would be barged to Haven, just in time for the confectioners to start buying for the candies and cakes that would be on Midwinter tables.

The four returned to Tavener's home for luncheon.

Safira had returned with the reply from Patriarch Motune approving the plan for the evening.

She carried another message from the Patriarch for Tavener.

_Ancar Kriegmangal has been talking loudly and often about 'getting his son back.' He made a formal appeal to the King's Court in Haven to have the Tribunal's decision reversed. The formal refusal to hear an appeal came back three days ago. Since then he has been talking publicly about 'taking what is his'. The Duke, Commander and I all agree that he is likely to try something soon. Be on your guard. - M_

Tavener showed the note to Marcia and the two Heralds. Marcia said she would talk to the village councilors in the afternoon and have them warn the village to watch out for Ancar. The villagers all knew about the hearing in Three Rivers and thought highly of Blane. They would warn the Gills immediately of any stranger who showed interest in the boy.

"Why didn't General Chase warn him off?" Alessander asked.

Tavener reflected that growing up in Court might have given Alessander too much faith in the ability of an order or law to stop someone doing what they should not. Diplomatically, he said. "Ancar Kriegmangal is not the sort of man who has a high regard for the law. I fear that giving him a warning and an order would only make him more cautious in his planning, not deter him from doing what he wants.

"He also seems somewhat obsessed. I think he has convinced himself that Blane is his son."

The two Heralds glanced at one another. "While we're here, we'll do everything we can to help." Alessander said to Tavener. "My fa.. The King places great importance on what you are doing here."

Tavener repressed a smile at the slip. He kept his voice neutral as he replied. "Thank you. Your support will be worth much."

Alessander flushed. He looked Tavener in the eye for a moment. The two men saw that each understood the roles they were playing and silently assured one another that they would continue to do so.

After luncheon, the trainees borrowed Tavener's ledgers for detailed study.

As it was the afternoon before Rest Day, and therefore payday, Tavener went into the village to meet a banker bringing the pay coffer from Three Rivers so that Tavener could pay his employees. Only Herald Alessander accompanied Tavener.

Tavener had moved the time for pay to early afternoon from closing so that the wives of the employees could be at the business when the pay was given out. A few of his employees were inclined to head to Harald Blackthorne's tavern immediately after work. If their pockets were full of their pay, they could spend it all before they got home.

By changing the time, Tavener had allowed the wives to intercept the pay before it was spent. Although the propensity to drink away their pay was true of only a few of his workers, the earlier pay was popular with many of the other families as well, since the wives could use the time to buy food for that night's supper and for Rest Day as well.

Tavener explained all this to Alessander as they walked back home afterwards. The banker and his burly guards were headed back to Three Rivers, taking a few tiny bits of deposit from the small number who were provident enough to put some aside and could afford to do so. Alessander was silent for some time. "I have always had plenty of money for whatever I desired." The Herald said. "I have known that some do without, but I did not realize how lack of money could spell disaster."

Fifty yards short of the gate, Tavener stopped. Alessander stopped as well and the two men faced each other. "Common folk must pinch every groat." Tavener said. "Being a copper short on rent day can mean no roof for a family."

Alessander stood silently for a moment, seeming lost in thought. At last he turned and walked on towards the gate with Tavener at his side. "It is like looking at a different world for me." Alessander said as they walked into the yard.

_Maybe the Crown Prince has seen something important. _Tavener thought_. I think he will be the better for it._

_::He will. Thank you.:: _A very masculine voice sounded in Tavener's head.

Tavener glanced around. "Who said that?" He asked.

"Who said what?" Alessander replied.

Tavener quickly realized what had happened. The mindvoice had the 'feel' of Bakun. Once again, a Companion had spoken to him. "Ah, nothing. I thought I heard something, that is all." Tavener said.

Alessander looked at him, obviously unconvinced, but said nothing.

There were still two candlemarks to dinner. The trainees and Heralds saddled their Companions and headed out for a cross-country gallop. From the looks on their faces, it was obvious that all looked forward to the exercise.

They returned from the ride half a candlemark before dinner. The riders' faces were flushed and smiling. A few bore scratches where branches had whipped them. The riders and Companions were spotted with mud and sweatmarks.

Tavener noted that Bose and Nandi turned Kolat and Etosha over to the others for grooming and sprinted to their rooms. Dael saw his look. "They're going for a quick change and clean up. They have the meal service duty this evening, so the others are giving them a hand with the grooming." The instructor explained.

Tavener had seen his own children lend each other a hand. For the trainees, helping one another was obviously second nature.

At dinner and into the evening, Tavener methodically proceeded to get the youngsters drunk, filling their cups each time the trainees emptied them.

He explained how a full stomach slowed the effects of the drink. As they progressed through the stages of relaxation to tipsy to inebriation to befuddlement to complete drunkenness, Tavener asked them repeatedly to note what they were thinking and feeling.

Blaine was wide-eyed, astonished at the trainees' behavior. The boy had seen men drunk before, but he was caught off-guard at seeing what drink could do to people he respected. When the Trainees began to get rowdy, Marcia sent him to bed. She sat with him until he fell asleep, patiently answering his questions about what he had seen.

Tavener was certain that if the trainees did not remember the latter stages themselves, their Companions would faithfully refresh their memories in the morning.

_::Oh, yes! We will certainly do that.::_ A feminine mindvoice said in his head. Tavener looked at the Companions. Toni's Merial winked at him.

For the most part, the trainees were pleasant drunks, although Lander took a swing at Corwin over some remark about Lander's father.

There were also some rather vulgar jokes and crude gossip about those present and those back at the Collegium. Tavener, Marcia and the two instructors ignored it, concentrating on watching for any serious problems.

Finally, when Nandi passed out and Bose and Phedra threw up, the adults called a halt.

They (and the Companions) gently helped the trainees to their beds. Marcia left pitchers of water and headache potions by their beds.

The four adults cleaned the Hall and the dishes before heading to their own beds.

As promised, Alessander roused the trainees for weapons drill before breakfast the next morning, showing no mercy for their bloodshot eyes and aching heads. If their muzzy heads and aching bodies could not work as they should, they received a whack from a practice blade to remind them how to fight.

Dael helped the second cook and Marcia get a hot breakfast ready, so when the trainees had showered and cleaned up after the workout, a hearty meal was waiting for them.

When Corwin came in, he looked at Tavener and blushed. "Master Gill, I would like to apologize for my behavior…"

Tavener held up a hand. "No need Corwin. I got you drunk to show you what could happen. Remember, I said you might embarrass yourselves. I knew what could happen. Better you should know what drink does to you with trustworthy friends around you than find out in the presence of your enemies."

The trainees looked at one another. Several of them blushed, remembering what they had said and done. Corwin looked back at Tavener. "Thank you, Master Gill. I don't think any of us will forget this lesson."

Corwin's face took on the distant look as Safira mindspoke him. The Companions all whickered their laughter.

"I am guessing that Safira just told you that she would remind you if you ever did forget." Tavener commented dryly.

"Just so." Corwin agreed, blushing once more.

After breakfast, the Heralds and trainees dispersed for Rest Day. A few got out their books to catch up on study. Corwin, Zesis and Phedra saddled their Companions and set off for a ride in the woods. So did Alessander and Dael, though they went in a separate direction.

When Hansal showed up mid-morning, Bose and Toni asked him to help them practice their Karsite. Blaine joined them. After a candlemark of language practice, the trainees rewarded the two boys by taking them for rides on their Companions.

The farm chores still had to be done, of course. Tavener and Marcia helped the smaller Rest Day crew with the essential work. A third of the farm crew worked each Rest Day and received a day off following the next Rest day. Other than the feeding and mucking out, they did no training, maintenance or bookwork. As they kept no dairy cattle, there was no milking. They gathered and washed the eggs from their few chickens and then enjoyed the day.

Instead of luncheon, bread, butter and cheese were laid out on the sideboard along with some sweet rolls for anyone to help themselves during the day. There was also water, apple juice, milk and a pot of kava. Everyone was expected to wash their own cup and plate.

In the afternoon, the sun poked weakly through the clouds. Everyone wandered down the lane to the village to visit. Three of the Companions joined them, much to the delight of the village children, who petted them and plied them with treats.

Widow Clay and Charkan Tor both recognized Alessander. Both, however, were familiar with the game of nobles going incognito and were circumspect, neither indicating by word or gesture that they knew that 'Alessander' was Prince Clevis. Alessander knew Charkan Tor as his former Hardornen tutor and enjoyed a short private conversation with the old man. He had seen Widow Clay in the house of his childhood playmates, but had never met her personally. Alessander took Tavener aside and asked about her. Tavener assured him of her complete discretion.

No one noticed the man on horseback who rode into the village in the mid-afternoon. Other than the eyepatch he wore, there was nothing unusual about him. He seemed pleasant, smiling at everyone, though he spoke very little. He bought a sausage roll from Cheris Malker, who sold them from her doorstep on Rest Days to earn a few extra coppers. He munched at it while sitting on his horse.

Only when Blane and Hansal, chased madly by half a dozen other youngsters in the never-ending game of 'Heralds and Bandits' passed near, did the man act.

Spurring his horse, the man leaned down and grabbed Blane by the collar of his jacket. He lifted the boy across his horse's withers. Holding the screaming boy face down in front of him, the man charged through the crowd, most of whom scrambled out of his path.

Oakley Blackthorne, seeing what happened, attempted to stop the abductor. The man charged the innkeeper's son, sending him sprawling on the cobbles.

If it had not been for the three Companions present, Ancar Kriegmangal might have gotten away. Alessander, Zesis and Nandi all made flying mounts onto their Companions' bare backs.

They tore after Ancar and Blane. Ancar threw a dagger over his shoulder in the direction of the Heralds. Although there was no time to respond, Tavener shouted a warning to the Heralds. Tavener's jaw dropped when the knife turned in mid-air and flew off sideways.

Within two hundred yards, the Heralds had Ancar surrounded. He attempted to draw his sword. Nandi struck him on the neck with the edge of her hand; Ancar collapsed and slid off his horse, unconscious.

Alessander caught Blane in his arms before the boy could fall with Ancar. He placed Blane in front of him astride Bakun's withers. Blane's screams ceased and he clutched at Bakun's mane as Alessander turned back to the village.

Nandi and Zesis quickly bound Ancar hand and foot. With their prisoner tied belly down across his horse's saddle, they took him back to the village.

Alessander lowered Blane into Marcia's waiting arms before sliding off Bakun's back.

"What is going on here?" Alessander demanded. ""Who is this man?"

Tavener peeled back the eyepatch. "His name is Ancar Kriegmangal. He claims Blane is his son." Ancar groaned and opened his eyes as he slowly wakened from Nandi's blow.

"The Tribunal ruled against him. He is not the boy's father. He has no claim, so why did he try to take the boy?" Alessander seemed puzzled that someone would actually defy an order of a court.

Tavener shrugged. "He does not seem to think he is bound by the law."

Ancar, now fully awake, shouted "The boy is my son! I have a right to my son, no matter what your clerks and judges say."

"He is not your son." Tavener growled. "You have no claim on him." He looked at Herald Alessander. "Herald, I wish to lay a complaint of attempted kidnapping against Ancar Kriegmangal."

Alessander glanced at Dael. "Your complaint is recognized." His eyes shifted to the trainees. "I think this is a good opportunity for our trainees to get some practice in judgment.

"Nandi and Zesis, as you were part of the rescue, you cannot judge this case. You will act as Officers of the Court.

"Lander, Bose and Phedra." He pointed to the three trainees, who had been chatting with Charkan Tor. "Did any of you see what happened?"

All three blushed slightly. Phedra spoke for them. "No, sir. We were talking with Master Tor. We only got back to the street in time to see you bringing Blane back."

"Good." Alessander said. "You three can form a tribunal. Phedra, you will be the chair. The three of you will make the judgment. Dael and I will confirm it afterwards if necessary."

Tavener was a little surprised at Alessander appointing Phedra to chair the trial. She had been the quietest of the trainees, seemingly quite shy. Maybe, Tavener reflected, that was the reason Alessander had given her the job: She needed practice in asserting herself.

Phedra took immediate charge of the situation, ordering Nandi and Zesis to hold the prisoner in a chair to one side, ordering a bench for the tribunal (brought quickly from Harald Blackthorne's tavern), selecting witnesses and assigning Corwin as clerk and Toni to ensure that no one left the village square without permission.

Marcia and Tavener sat with Blane between them. The boy's initial fright had been replaced by fascination as he watched the proceedings.

Cheris Malker, who was the first person who had noticed Ancar, was called first.

The crowd gasped as Corwin placed the truth spell on her. Cheris Malker beamed, obviously happy to be the center of attention.

"Please tell us what you saw, Mistress Malker, from the moment you first saw the accused." Phedra demanded.

"Well, I was standing in my gate, like I always do on Rest Days, selling my sausage rolls. They're an old recipe in my fa..." Cheris began.

"Please keep to the matter at hand." Phedra interrupted.

Cheris halted, then resumed. "Well, that man…" She pointed at Ancar "…rode up on his horse and asked for one of my rolls. I thought it was rude not to get off his horse…"

"Just the events as you saw them." Phedra interrupted again. "We will deal with the character of the accused later if it becomes necessary."

With only two more interruptions to keep her on the subject, Cheris Malker told the panel what she had seen.

Phedra offered Ancar the chance to dispute any of Cheris Malker's statements. He sneered, contenting himself with "I was weighed down by the greasy roll."

Phedra called Oakley Blackthorne next. The young man sported a black eye and limped slightly as he came forward. Marcia had checked him for injuries and found nothing more serious than a few bruises, but Oakley was already being treated as a minor hero by the villagers.

Oakley gave his statement. Again, Ancar did not dispute it, contenting himself with "The young bumpkin was too stupid to get out of my way."

Phedra finished with statements from Nandi and Zesis. Perhaps a little embarrassed about being knocked senseless by an unarmed female, Ancar said nothing.

Only when Phedra called Tavener to testify about the trial in Three Rivers did Ancar rouse, interrupting several times with cries of "Lies!" and "The boy is my son!" At last, an exasperated Phedra used her gift of Voice on him. "You will be silent until I give you leave to speak!"

Ancar was visibly shaken by the psychic power Phedra focused on him. The gift of Voice was extremely rare. Unless the target had strong mindshields, he would be incapable of disobeying the user's commands. Heralds who possessed it had to take years of ethics training in the appropriate use.

At last, Phedra called Ancar forward. Once Corwin had placed the Truth Spell on him and formally confirmed his identity, Phedra allowed him to speak.

"The boy is my son!" Ancar began once more. The glow of the Truth Spell wavered uncertainly.

"You do not seem very certain of that." Phedra said. "Please explain."

Ancar repeated the tale he had told the tribunal in Three Rivers of begetting Blane on Claris Truewald. Phedra had to call for silence when the villagers reacted angrily to Ancar's assertion that Claris had wanted sex with him.

Bose took up the questioning. "I saw the report of Duke Simeon on the matter when you sent your appeal to Haven. The Reverend Mother Loana used her gifts to test your claim, did she not?"

"The bitch lied!" Ancar replied. "Duke Hesham had her lie!"

"The records of the Tribunal said that both Herald Coram and Herald Rhodia testified that Reverend Mother Loana was under some form of the Truth Spell at the time. Was she not under a Truth Spell?" Bose continued.

"I do not know what trickery she used. She lied. I don't know how she made it look like she was telling the Truth." Ancar retorted.

"The Tribunal did not agree with that assessment. They accepted that she told the truth. They accepted her determination that you were not Blane's father, didn't they?" Bose put an ironic twist in his voice that the crowd could not miss.

"They said they believed her." Ancar admitted grudgingly. "But he is my son."

"The Tribunal also noted that even if you were Blane's blood father, you failed to make a claim of such within the time set by law. You admitted to the Tribunal that you did not make such a claim in either Valdemar or Hardorn. Did you make a claim within the time allowed?"

Ancar squirmed slightly. "No."

"Why didn't you?" Bose went on.

"I couldn't." Ancar said softly.

"Why couldn't you?" Bose was relentless.

"That has nothing to do with it." Ancar spat.

"Answer my question!" Bose demanded.

"I was in Morgenthal Prison." Ancar collapsed in his chair.

Bose glanced at Phedra and Lander. At Phedra's nod, Lander took over. "By the test of Reverend Mother Loana, by the finding of the tribunal and by failing to put forward a claim, the Tribunal decided you had no claim to Blane. In addition, we now see that you are morally unfit to be a parent."

Ancar looked angry and opened his mouth to speak. Lander silenced him with an admonishing finger.

"I will not ask why you were in a Hardornen prison. But the fact that you were in prison unavoidably prejudices any claim to custody of Blane in my eyes and the eyes of my fellows on this panel." Bose and Phedra nodded emphatically.

"There is no reason for us to dispute the finding of the Tribunal. Their order was made under the laws of Valdemar and it is binding.

"You knew the Tribunal's decision. Why did you come here today?" Lander asked.

"I came for my son. The boy is my son. No one has the right to deny a father his son."

"So you came today to take Blane despite what the Tribunal said?"

Defiantly, Ancar stated. "I do not care what they said. I have a right to my son."

"So you came to take him?" Lander repeated.

"I came for what is mine."

"Do you have anything else to say?" Phedra asked.

"No." Ancar finished.

At Phedra's nod, Corwin released the Truth Spell. "We will consider our judgment." She announced.

The three trainees went away from the crowd. Tavener watched them with interest. Their body language first indicated a quick agreement, but then there seemed to be some dispute. Bose seemed frustrated, but finally signaled his assent. There was a bit more discussion. All three trainees grinned broadly.

The three returned to their bench. Phedra spoke, projecting her voice to carry.

"Ancar Kriegmangal, we find you guilty of attempted kidnapping. You are sentenced to three years hard labor in Greyscarp Prison. This is the lightest sentence possible for attempted kidnapping and is chosen because of your evident conviction that Blane Truewald is your son and determination – however misguided – to obtain custody which led to today's events. You are advised to forget this idea of yours or, if you cannot forget, give it up."

Ancar opened his mouth to speak, but Phedra went on.

"You may appeal our judgment, but I must advise you that an Appeal Court could also review the sentence. The maximum sentence for kidnapping is hanging." Tavener noted that Bose snorted lightly and folded his arms as she said this. Evidently Bose had not been inclined to be lenient.

Ancar went white and closed his mouth.

Phedra was not done. "We also find that, when you rode your horse over Oakley Blackthorne, you committed assault and endangered his life. As penalty for that assault and as suffering price to Oakley, your horse is forfeit to him."

Everyone except Ancar grinned broadly at this, Oakley most of all. Tavener knew that Oakley wanted to join the mounted guard. Now that he had a horse, he had a chance to do so. Tavener wondered if Herald 'Alessander' could be persuaded to write a recommendation on Oakley's behalf.

Phedra looked to Alessander and Dael. "As the three of us are not yet full Heralds, we must ask our Seniors to confirm our decision."

The two Heralds glanced at one another and nodded. Dael spoke for them. "Herald Alessander and I confirm this judgment and decision. We are in full agreement."

Phedra acknowledged her Seniors. "Before we adjourn, I wish to clarify something for the benefit of those watching who may have noted that the Truth Spell showed Ancar Kriegmangal to be telling the truth."

Briefly she explained what Coram had previously told Tavener. "I would therefore remind you all that believing something to be true is not the same as it being true.

"This judgment is concluded."

The villagers cheered.

Corwin, Nandi and Zesis were delegated to escort Ancar to the guard barracks in Three Rivers, from where he would be sent on to Greyscarp. Oakley was perfectly willing to loan his new horse to bear Ancar for the journey to Three Rivers.

The assembled villagers dispersed to their homes, evidently well pleased with the 'entertainment' this Rest Day had brought.

Blane returned home with Marcia and Tavener. As they walked along, Herald Alessander joined them. Tavener remarked on the odd behavior of the knife Ancar had thrown, asking Alessander if he or one of the trainees had used a fetching gift.

"I did." Alessander said. "I can move objects with my mind. If I want to move something to a specific place, I have to stop and concentrate, but if I only want to 'hit' something to move it away or deflect it, I can do it on the fly. I just swatted the knife aside. I'd have had to stop and focus if I'd wanted to put it someplace."

At Marcia's request, Bartram Austrebon allowed Hansal to spend the night with Blane. Marcia thought Hansal's company would help Blane recover from the ordeal.

The next sennight passed with no further excitement. The villagers gradually became accustomed to the presence of the Herald trainees as they worked alongside Tavener's employees, learning some of the ways of trade and commerce.

The trainees took a day to go down to Tavener's canal and locks around the Terilee rapids and see how the tolls were assessed and collected. When Nandi asked why Tavener charged the same rate for a barge loaded with valuable furs and luxury goods as he charged for one loaded with coal, he replied simply that they both took the same work, space and time to go through his canal. The value of the cargo was irrelevant.

Sovran fell on the day before the next Rest Day. Tavener gave his workers a half-holiday so the families could prepare for their Sovran feast.

At Tavener's home, the trainees pitched in to the preparations. Lander and Zesis shot a buck to provide roast venison; Bose and Blane rehearsed a few songs. Corwin appropriated the brick stove in the training yard to bake pies. (Alessander remarked that Corwin's previously unsuspected cooking abilities would make his Internship counselor very happy.) Each of the others worked on something to make the feast memorable.

In previous years, Marcia had noticed that the Austrebons had not celebrated Sovran. Through discrete inquiry, she found out that the observance was forbidden in Karse, even though Valdemaran worshippers of the Sunlord celebrated like those of other faiths. Marcia invited Bartram and his family to spend the night at the Gill house and join in the celebration.

When Tavener asked if the presence of the Companions might be a little intimidating to the Austrebons, Marcia replied. "That is one of the reasons I invited them. Meeting the Companions close up will help Bartram, Trista and Kendra see that they are nothing to be afraid of."

Tavener shook his head. "When am I going to learn that you never do just one thing at a time?"

The Austrebons arrived just before sunset. Marcia showed them to guest rooms and allowed them time for a private Sundescending prayer before coming to Companion's Hall for dinner.

The Austrebons had also brought something for the meal: Trista had made variety of Karsite festive breads as well as plain rolls and a light baklava for later in the evening. Bartram brought an apple liqueur he had made himself. Tavener made a mental note to ask Trista if she would like to start a bakery, since the village had none as yet.

Hansal was already comfortable with the Companions and made a point of introducing each of them to his parents. The trainees made a game of having the Companions come forward without their Chosen, laughing as Hansal correctly identified each of them.

Alessander noticed that Bakun took a great interest in Kendra, Hansal's younger sister, going so fat as to gently nuzzle her cheek. In mindspeech, he asked the stallion what he noted, wondering if there was another potential Herald in the Austrebon family.

_:Healer.: _Bakun replied._ :She has a healing gift that should begin to manifest more strongly in two or three years. You are going to have to warn her parents and tell them what to watch for.:_

Alessander debated telling Bartram and Trista at once, but was uncertain how they might react, given their Karsite background. Alessander decided to defer telling them until the day after Rest Day. He could have the Sunpriest from the Temple of the Lord of Light in Three Rivers come with him when he visited the family to give them the news.

Hansal's ease with the Companions and the cheerful welcome of the Heralds and trainees helped allay the fears of his parents and sister, who soon relaxed and enjoyed the feast with the others.

As the Gills traditionally gave the cook a holiday on feast days, everyone helped with the serving, including (to Tavener's surprise) Herald Alessander.

After the meal, everyone took turns with entertainment. Bose and Blane sang several songs in Valdemaran and Karsite. Nandi, who had grown up in a troupe of traveling acrobats, performed several stunts. Zesis amused them with clever sleight of hand tricks that were so good that some wondered if she used her gifts.

Lander, aided by his Companion Wallen, did an uproarious sketch he called "The Drunken Herald": The inebriated Herald managed to create total confusion, making nonsensical pronouncements with bawdy double meanings. In the end, the 'Drunken Herald' resolved everything by mistakenly marrying the girl, not to the old man to whom she had been betrothed by her parents, but the boy who was her secret true love. The Herald 'rode out of town' seated backwards on his obviously disgusted Companion holding his tail instead of the reins. Lander dismounted by theatrically somersaulting off Wallen's rump to the cheers and applause of everyone.

Gradually the entertainments became less lively. At the end, the trainees fell into the common ending of Sovran feasts: The telling of ghost stories.

After the first few stories, Dael noticed that the Austrebons were becoming visibly agitated. He sent a query to Faella.

_:The stories are reminding them of the Night Demons.: _Faella replied. _:To someone from Karse, those aren't just amusing things to frighten children, but very real horrors.:_

Before Dael could ask her to do it, she added_. :I'll tell the others to have their Chosen stop the stories.:_

As she passed the message, Dael saw the eyes of the trainees flick briefly to the Austrebons. Corwin paused awkwardly in the middle of his tale. He finished it abruptly with a contrived ending.

There was a short silence before Bose picked up his lute and launched into "It Was a Dark and Stormy Night."

After the laughter at the end of the song, Alessander announced it was time for all to go to bed. The trainees rose and helped Tavener and Marcia clean up the table, including the cups and dishes. After snuffing the lanterns, everyone retired to their beds.

Alessander woke with the first light the next morning. As a Rest Day and the morning after Sovran, no one was expected to rise early, although he could smell fresh rolls and kava on the shelf outside his door.

_:Zesis and Corwin very kindly brought breakfast to everyone_.: Bakun's mindvoice carried an amused overtone that told Alessander that the two trainees had found further entertainment with each other in the night._ :I, too, have had a guest in my bed.: _Bakun added.

The Companion's amused mindvoice made Alessander glance at the half door to the Companion's stall. Alessander could not see his Companion, who was neither standing at the door nor eating as he expected.

Curious, Alessander got out of bed and padded over to the door. Bakun was lying down. Curled up against the stallion's broad chest with a hand resting on the silken neck, Hansal was sleeping peacefully.

Alessander smiled at the scene, which reminded of him of nights he had sought comfort at Bakun's side when he was worried or upset.

_:The ghost stories last night gave him nightmares.: _Bakun explained. _:He came here about a candlemark after we had gone to bed. He asked if I would keep him company. He's been asleep ever since.:_

_:Did you call him to you?: _Alessander asked.

_:No. He sought me out. I think it was because I am the only one of us who has actually mindspoken him.:_

_:That would make sense.: _Alessander replied._ :It also shows that he has lost the fear of Companions that his Karsite upbringing implanted.:_

_:Yes.: _Bakun agreed_. :That is undoubtedly a good thing.:_

The Companion gently nudged Hansal with his nose. The boy stirred, stroking the powerful chest and rubbing his face on Bakun's neck before lifting his head and opening his eyes.

Hansal turned and saw Alessander staring down at them both. He scrambled to his feet. "I'm s-s-sorry My Lord." The boy said, looking guilty. "I was having a nightmare and…"

Alessander lifted his hand to stop the boy's explanation. "Think nothing of it, lad. Bakun tells me you asked his permission. If he gives you permission, mine is unnecessary.

"I am happy that Bakun could comfort you. He likes you and wants to be your friend."

Hansal glanced at the Companion. "He likes me?" he said incredulously. "He wants to be my friend?" Impulsively, he wrapped his arms around Bakun's neck and kissed the Companion. "I like you too, Bakun. Thank you for being my friend."

_:I think we will be very good friends for a long, long time.: _Alessander's jaw dropped as he realized that Bakun was both mindspeaking the boy and allowing Alessander to hear what he said.

Recovering quickly, Alessander said. "There you have it, Hansal, straight from Bakun himself.

"Let me tell you something." The Herald went on. "Companions almost never mindspeak anyone but their Chosen. You must be a very special friend for Bakun to speak to you."

Hansal blushed and smiled. Self-consciously, he stroked Bakun's mane.

_:It also helps that he has prodigious mindspeech potential.: _Bakun added privately to his Chosen.

The Companion now rose to his feet. He nuzzled the boy once more, then gave him a gentle push with his nose.

"Okay." Hansal said. "I'll go back to my parents. Thank you, Bakun." Opening the door to the hallway, Hansal went back to the guest rooms, glancing back and waving at Bakun until he was around the corner.

"Did you tell him to go back to his parents with mindspeech?" Alessander asked.

Bakun cocked an ear at his Chosen. _:Our host is not the only one who can read body language.: _Alessander caught an overtone that implied Bakun thought his Chosen was being rather thick.

Alessander snorted. _:Well, you aren't the one who is going to have to explain to his mother why he stinks of horse.:_

Bakun mimed a bite at his Chosen, who laughed and fetched the kava and rolls from the hallway.

Remembering that Marcia was an ungifted healer, Alessander asked her to accompany him when he and the Sunpriest from Three Rivers went to see Bartram and Trista after Rest Day.

Once Marcia explained how healers were trained in Valdemar, the Austrebons seemed pleased that their daughter possessed the Healing Gift, although somewhat resigned to losing her to the Healer's Collegium.

"She would have been taken at the Feast of the Children to be trained as a Red Robe." Trista said with a sigh. "At least she will be able to visit us."

Marcia and Alessander assured them that Kendra would not have to leave immediately. Until her gifts began to manifest, she could stay in Gillhold. In the meantime, Marcia would give Kendra some basic training in practical healing and anatomy. Until Kendra began showing discomfort when people were angry or upset, she could remain with her parents.

Tavener began to receive reports from his managers and factors about strangers making enquiries about Tavener and his businesses. One warehouse in Haven was broken into; the office had been searched and the records shuffled, but nothing seemed to have been stolen,

There were also two or three instances of visitors in the village who lingered without purpose and asked leading questions; they invariably decamped when Tavener, summoned by one of the villagers, came into the village to confront the enquirers. They also seemed to avoid the Heralds and trainees, leaving quickly when one of them put in an appearance.

As the reports piled up, Tavener invited the Heralds to his office. He told them of the reports.

"You are being spied on." Alessander said bluntly. "You are now a member of the Royal Council and that makes you a Person of Importance. Therefore, you are spied on, certainly by other members of the council, probably by influence seekers, possibly by foreign spies, and possibly by spies employed by the Crown."

Tavener looked at Alessander silently while he pondered this. "The foreign spies I can understand, who are looking for Valdemar's secrets.. I can also understand the influence seekers and the Royal Councilors who would want to know how I might vote. But why would the King's spies spy on me?"

Alessander shrugged. "In part, the King's spies are watching the other spies. They want to know who is watching you and determine what information the other spies are gathering. It is part of the whole "I know what you know about what I know" game that spies engage in. The King's spies are also watching you to ensure that you are not divulging secrets."

When Tavener opened his mouth to object to that, Alessander held up his hand. "I trust anyone my Companion tells me is trustworthy, but the spies in question are not Heralds and have no idea what being a 'Friend of the Companions' means in terms of being trustworthy. Over the centuries, there have been far too many Councilors who have betrayed their oaths and their country. The way in which you were elevated to the council means nothing to such spies – or counterspies – if you will."

Alessander went on. "One thing you missed with the Royal Councilors' spies is the aspect of Court politics and blackmail. The nobles are particularly jealous of non-noble councilors and are constantly looking for excuses to bring them down or blackmail them into supporting their side."

Alessander sighed. "It's a dirty game, but you are stuck with it now that you are on council."

Tavener gave him a sour look. "If that's the case, I'd rather not be on council."

Alessander chuckled knowingly. "Sorry, Master Gill, but the Companions made that choice, not the King or the council. Once they decided you and your wife should be on the council, you two were stuck with it. Take it up with their pretty blue eyes."

Taking a more serious mien, Alessander went on. "Before you try to wish it away and decide never to attend a council meeting again, I am going to add one thing: The King needs people on the council he can really trust but are not Heralds. Heralds live in a world isolated from the realities of day-to-day work and trade. The King needs advisers who are neither idealists nor courtiers. Even the guildsmen on council tend to favor their own interests. You and Marcia, who live and work in the ordinary, day-to-day world of Valdemar yet are completely trustworthy, are absolutely invaluable to him."

Tavener closed his eyes and sighed. "As you wish. If the King wants my advice, I will give it. We will speak our minds on council, letting the councilors hear the voice of ordinary Valdemarans."

Alessander and Dael both beamed at Tavener's words.

A few days later, Tavener received a letter from Baron Makris Felthan, one of Duke Simeon's faction on the Royal Council. The Baron asked if he and his family might stay with the Gills on their way home from Haven.

Tavener showed the letter to the two Heralds. "We are commoners and merchants. We certainly do not keep a court or estate such as nobles know them."

Alessander looked about to say something, but Dael spoke first. "I know Baron Felthan. He is a very solid, sensible man – not at all given to courtly pretensions. He is not rich; he probably is not even as wealthy as you are. Which is one of the reasons he avoids Midwinter Court – it is just too expensive. You will find the Baron a courteous and welcome guest who will not burden you. He will arrive with no more than one or two retainers, plus his two children and their governess."

"What of his wife?" Tavener asked. "She must be highborn. Is she as easy as her husband?"

"Baron Felthan is a widower." Alessander said. "His wife, Valna, died in childbirth. She gave him twins: a son, Rogan, and a daughter, Roxanne. They would be about five or six years old. They are reportedly charming children, but that may be no more than the usual flattery nobles give to one another.

"As to why Baron Felthan would want to visit you," Alessander went on, "I can only assume that he wants to get to know you as fellow Council members. He tends to support Duke Simeon. You will find he has a good head on his shoulders and is pleasant company."

Tavener kept his face expressionless as he realized that Alessander had once again let slip that he was not just an ordinary Herald. Otherwise, how would he know so much about the dealings of the Royal Council and the character of the Courtiers?

"Thank you." Tavener said. "I shall write to Baron Felthan to say he will be welcome."

"Good." Dael said. "You will find that he is as casual about his rank as my father."

Except for more spies, the last two sennights of the trainee's stay passed without incident. The villagers became accustomed to the trainees and Companions, no longer stopping to stare when one of them tried his or her hand at some chore or watched the bargaining that was part of Tavener's numerous enterprises.

Corwin, Lander and Zesis sat quietly while Tavener negotiated a deal with Trista Austrebon on founding a bakery. Trista, he discovered, was illiterate – something almost unheard of in Valdemar, but the common lot of women in Karse. He arranged with Widow Clay for Trista to have basic schooling in reading and sums.

The mounted guard accepted Oakley Blackthorne's application for a cadetship. It was aided, Tavener surmised, by a letter of recommendation from a Highly Placed Person. Oakley would go to Haven just after midwinter.

On the last evening before the trainees left, there was a farewell feast in Companion's Hall. The Austrebons, Harald and Mavis Blackthorne, Widow Clay and Charkan Tor were invited to join the group.

Marcia noticed that the Austrebons were now much more relaxed around the Companions, with Trista going so far as to stroke Bakun's neck at Hansal's urging.

The trainees and Heralds left before dawn the next morning. Only Tavener, Marcia, Blane and Hansal (who had stayed the night) were up to see them go.

"Haven had the first snow of winter yesterday." Alessander said. "We are going to have to ride hard the next three days if we are to make it back before the next storm."

The cavalcade cantered down the laneway and through the sleeping village. Few were awake to see them pass.

Three days later, Baron Felthan arrived for his visit. As Dael had foretold, the Baron was little given to ceremony. Unusually for a noble, Makris rode a gelding, not a war stallion. He had a patch over one eye, was extremely thin and seemed short of breath. When Makris dismounted, Tavener noted that he walked with a heavy limp.

Baron Felthan's children rode with their governess in a light carriage driven by a middle-aged coachman. The Baron had a single aide, a young man of twenty or so. The aide rode his horse on the other side of the carriage to help guard the family.

The Baron introduced his children, who were obviously tired from the journey, their governess Mistress Beale Packwood, the coachman Deran Chase and his aide Sanjay Tross.

After a brief and cordial welcome, Marcia took the Baron and his family to their guest suite. The coachman and aide took care of the horses, following Piotr Jeslen to the stables.

No sooner had the party disappeared than Oakley Blackthorne cautiously entered the yard. He hurried over to Tavener. "Master Gill, that man – the young one who rode the grey, I mean – he was one of those folk who were asking questions about you. He stayed at my father's inn a few sennights back. He disappeared as soon as you showed up after my pa sent for you."

Tavener's eyebrows shot up. Baron Felthan had been spying on him. The visit should prove more interesting than he expected.

"Thank you, Oakley." Tavener said. "That is good to know. My thanks to your father as well."

"T'weren't nothing." Oakley replied. "Glad we could help you. Now, I better get away before he sees me. Pa and I will let you know if he goes about asking more questions."

Tavener thanked Oakley again and the young man hurried off.

The aide and the coachman returned from the stable and Tavener directed them to their own quarters. Tavener got a good look at the young aide, a dark-haired young man with an olive complexion and brown eyes. Sanjay Tross appeared utterly guileless. He politely thanked Tavener for showing him to his room beside his master's quarters.

Once the Baron and his children had refreshed themselves, Tavener gave them a tour of the farmstead. Blane and Hansal joined them and helped mind the children. Makris seemed particularly interested in the mules. "You breed excellent stock with good minds." He said. "The good sense of one of your mules is why I am still breathing." He wheezed a laugh.

At Tavener's look, Makris went on. "I was with the Army near the Iftel border six years ago. You may remember the huge forest fires we had up there that year?"

"I had heard the reports." Tavener said. "I was worried we might have fires here as well. That was a very hot, dry summer."

"Yes." The Baron said. "The army was called in to help fight the fires. We even took some of the trainees from the Collegium to help coordinate the fire fighting."

"My company was stationed near Easton and we worked the fires at that end. While I was up near the fire line, a giant tree came down in flames not five yards from me. My horse, one of those damned skittish war stallions that are fearless in battle but utterly brainless in any other emergency, panicked and bolted, throwing me to the ground. I lost an eye and broke my leg badly. By the time my men got to me, I'd inhaled a lot of hot smoke, my lungs were burning.

"My men put me up on one of your mules and carried me to safety. The beast was perfectly sensible despite the natural fear of the fire around us. Got me away to the infirmary in time for the healers to save my life.

"Naturally, I have taken a great interest in the army's draft mules ever since, although I am no longer fit for duty." He wheezed once more.

The Baron's children looked solemnly at their father. Blane and Hansal were wide-eyed at the tale.

Once the tour was done, it was nearly time for dinner. The Felthans went back to their suite to clean up. Blane went to help the cook while Hansal waited for a moment.

As soon as Makris and his family had gone back into the house, Hansal stood in front of Tavener. "Master Gill," the boy said, "that man has a favor he wants to ask you. I don't know what it is, but it's nothing bad." Hansal looked thoughtful for a moment. "He's a very good man but he is really worried about something."

Tavener stared at Hansal for a moment, wondering how the boy's gifts had factored into what he had just said. "Thank you, Hansal." Tavener said. "That is good of you to tell me that. It helps me a great deal to know that you think Baron Makris is a good man."

"You are welcome." Hansal said solemnly. He bowed slightly and started down the lane, breaking into a run to get home in time for Sundescending Prayer.

As there were no Heralds or Companions present, the family and their guests had dinner in the older, more intimate dining room in the main house. The governess and the aide joined them; the coachman chose to eat with the farmhands.

The dinner conversation was casual. The Gills and the Baron shared stories and anecdotes of their lives. They discussed neither business nor court matters, other than the Baron relating how Lakis Corbie had become the laughingstock of the court and the entire city of Haven. Apparently, there were graffiti everywhere lampooning Lord Corbie, usually with crude drawings of a horse-like backside breaking wind in Lakis' face.

The Baron shared stories of his days with the army, his face taking on a wistful look as he did so. He also asked Tavener and Marcia of their experiences, particularly wanting to know about White Foal Pass, which had occurred when he was just a child.

Makris showed great pride in his children, who lived up to the praise that Alessander had spoken. Marcia was completely charmed by them. Like most Valdemaran children they were fascinated by Companions. They were envious of Blane's contact with Companions and wanted to know all about the Companions of the Gill children.

Blane promised to show them Companions' Hall the next day.

The children began to yawn and their governess took them off to bed. Blane had schoolwork to do and excused himself. "Geometry," he said, "I wish Hansal were here. He is good at geometry."

The Baron and his aide stayed with the Gills for a while. Taking the opportunity, Tavener asked Sanjay Tross about his family. The young man appeared flustered. "Ah, my mother passed away a few years back. Baron Felthan was kind enough to take me on as an aide."

"Sanjay has been an excellent aide. He is loyal, brave and honest to a fault." Makris spoke up. "I could not have asked for a better right hand."

"Thank you, Sir." The young man said. He gulped and seemed to resolve himself. "What the Baron does not say is that I am a bastard son of his uncle and depend on his good will." He looked as though challenging the others to take offense.

Marcia did not even blink. "I rather thought you resembled Baron Felthan. I hope you have not had too hard a time of it. I know some of the nobles look down on those born out of wedlock, but I don't. As a healer, I can say that the blood of bastards is no different color than the blood of those born of the official wife."

"I've seen more foul deeds done by those who boast 'legitimate' birth than by their out of wedlock kin." Tavener added. "My own father was a bastard. My surname was given my father by his father to taunt him. It referred to the gill of liqueur he had supposedly drunk before begetting my father. There are none who will scoff at your birth in this house.

"You are welcome here. If your patron finds you worthy, so do we."

Even with Sanjay's dark skin, the Gills could see him blushing. "Thank you, sir." The young man said. He glanced uneasily at Makris. "I would like to make a small confession." At the Baron's nod, he continued. "I came here a few sennights ago at My Lord's bidding to spy upon you. I heard nothing but good of you from your employees. I hope I did not cause you any anxiety."

Before Tavener could respond, Makris spoke up. "I asked Sanjay to spy on you because I wanted to get some measure of your character. From the fact that the Companions themselves trust you, I know that you are trustworthy. What I wanted to know is if you were as sensible as you seemed that day you joined the Council.

"I apologize if I have given offense, but this touches on a personal matter I would like to discuss with you privately tomorrow." The Baron coughed. "For now, I beg your indulgence, for the journey has tired me and I need to rest."

Tavener paused a moment. He could see the fatigue on the Baron's face. He caught the aide looking anxiously at his patron. "We accept your apology. I have been told by a source that I trust that you are a good man. We look forward to seeing you in the morning."

The Baron rose and returned to his suite. His aide went with him.

After he left, Marcia turned to her husband. "What is this trustworthy source? Dael and Alessander spoke well of him, but they did not actually call him a good man. Who else have you spoken to?"

Tavener told Marcia what Hansal had told him a few candlemarks before. "Well, the Heralds told us that Hansal has the gift of truthsay. Hansal tries to be circumspect and avoid prying, so his sense that Baron Felthan was trustworthy must have been strong." She said.

"I wonder what it is he wants." Both spoke the same thought at the same time, then laughed and kissed before going to their own chores. Marcia had some village accounts to attend to while Tavener went to his office. A candlemark later, they went to bed.

After breakfast the next morning, Blane showed Rogan and Roxanne Companions' Hall. Roxanne eagerly gathered the few shed mane and tail hairs that had not been cleaned up when the trainees left. Rogan was more interested in the practice area and the pells. At the Baron's urging, the two went with Blane to Widow Clay's school for the day. He had no qualms about his children mixing with commoners, though the governess went with them as a protector.

Once they were alone, Makris and his aide joined Tavener and Marcia in the office.

"I am dying." The Baron began bluntly. "I have a few years left, but the healers tell me that the damage to my lungs will kill me before my children are grown."

Stunned by the revelation, Tavener could only manage. "I am very sorry to hear that. Is there anything we can do for you?"

"Yes." The Baron coughed. "I came here to ask if you would be guardians to my children when I am gone. You are good, sensible people. That is what I sent Sanjay here to confirm. I need to know that my children will be cared for properly when I am gone. I don't want their heads filled with Court nonsense about how their rank puts them above everyone else. I want them to know their rank means they have duties."

He coughed once more. "With nine children chosen to be Heralds and the King appointing you as Special Guardians, I am sure you are the sort of people who will raise my children to be responsible and bring them up as a credit to my name."

"Wouldn't they be better with their own kin?" Marcia asked gently.

"My own kin?" Makris sounded bitter. "My next brother is a Herald himself. I wish Kanan could take Rogan and Roxanne, but he has his duties and lacks the time to be a parent."

His voice rose. "My youngest brother Aldin, had he not got himself killed in a barfight, would have been as bad a parent as it is possible. My sister Celeste is as brainless as they come and married to Count Westmore. I will not have my children in her house.

"That leaves my Uncle Balan, who is a wastrel, a lecher and a fool. The only good thing about him is that he begot Sanjay."

After this passionate outburst, the Baron coughed for several minutes. Sanjay produced a bottle, which he opened and held it under Makris' nose. Marcia massaged his back, helping him to regain his breath.

"Why not Sanjay, then?" Tavener asked, glancing at the aide, who had remained silent through all this.

"I trust Sanjay with my life and with my children, but the hard fact of his birth would leave him open to the constant attacks of Balan and Count Westmore, who would distract him from the job of being a parent. Besides, Sanjay has his own career to pursue. Prince Clevis has promised him a position when I am gone. I know you have not met the Crown Prince as yet, but he is a sound judge of character and he likes Sanjay." The Baron was obviously unaware of Herald "Alessander's" stay just sennights before.

Sanjay blushed at his patron's praise. "The Baron has discussed this with me before. We both know that my father and Count Westmore would use every device to pry the children from my hands. It would be a long and ruinous battle in court. The fact that my own father is against me would make the fight more difficult."

He sighed. "It is better this way. I like Rogan and Roxanne. I hope I can be a friend to them, but the prejudice against my birth would make that difficult to accomplish."

"But aren't we going to face the same challenges from your uncle and your brother-in-law?" Tavener asked. "It would seem that, as we are not family, our case would be even weaker than Sanjay's."

"Not if I put my reasons for denying my family in my will. I have gone to the King personally about this. If you agree, I will draft my will and present it to Council for ratification. It's unusual, but has been done before in similar situations. Theran has agreed to support my request. That will make it impossible to challenge in the law courts."

"How are you going to deny the suitability of your family when your brother is a Herald?" Tavener asked.

"Kanan will openly acknowledge that his duties prevent him providing a good home. Besides, he was the one who suggested I ask you."

Tavener and Marcia looked at each other for a long moment. They reached out and took each other's hand. "Very well, we will do this. But only if you agree that Kanan and Sanjay have intervention rights. That will make it clear that you trust their family feelings to protect your children."

"Thank you." The Baron said. "I will prepare my will accordingly and have it ratified in the Council after midwinter. I intend to tell Count Westmore before the entire council that I deem him and my sister unfit to be guardians of my children.

The Baron and the Gills spent the rest of the morning speaking of various issues before the council. After luncheon, the Baron expressed interest in Tavener's businesses and went with Tavener to the village. The Baron's weakness prevented a long stay and even the few hundred yards' walk to and from the village strained him.

After school, Blane offered Rogan and Roxanne a ride on his pony. Sanjay kept careful watch to ensure there were no accidents. Rogan worked out at the pells with Blane and Hansal. As the scion of a noble family, Rogan had already begun weapons training but Blane and Hansal, through their dedicated practice, were already far in ahead of him.

The Felthans left the next morning. They had two days more travel to reach their family home.

A sennight later, Gillhold's first winter storm struck. It produced yet another change in the lives of Tavener and Marcia.

The day began bright and sunny, but unusually cold. The streams had frozen overnight and all of the windows were heavily frosted. The village air was heavy with the smell of wood smoke.

Tavener felt uneasy and fretted most of the morning. Shortly after noon, the wind began to pick up. Tavener ordered his hands to bring all of the herds into the corrals.

When black clouds appeared in the west two candlemarks later, he ordered that the beasts put into the barns.

He sent Billy Malker into the village to warn the villagers to bring in their flocks. Tavener set the rest of his hands to ensuring that feed and water was made ready for the next several days.

With the beasts safely in, Tavener sent the workmen who lived in the village home. The live-in hands were set to putting up the storm shutters.

Saddling a palfrey, Tavener went into the village and closed all of his businesses, advising the other shopkeepers to do the same. Even Harald Blackthorne, impressed by Tavener's gravity, closed his tavern, something Harald almost never did.

Tavener returned home, watching grimly over his shoulder as the black cloud drew closer. He had made all the usual preparations for a storm, but something still nagged at him.

As the sun disappeared behind the advancing cloud, he poked through the equipment sheds in hopes that something there would prompt him. The storm would be upon them in less than half a candlemark, but Tavener felt there was something more he needed to do. When he spotted a pair of massive camp lanterns, he knew they were what he needed.

The lanterns were solidly made of heavy iron, built to stand in the strongest wind. The base had a space where stones could be set, which would render them almost immovable.

Tavener and two of his hands wrestled the lanterns to the front gate. They added heavy stones to anchor them there. Marcia brought oil and filled the fuel pot. Tavener lit the wicks and closed the thick glass.

As his feeling of uneasiness passed, Tavener and Marcia retreated to the house. Their hands fled to the bunkhouse. As they closed the doors, the howling wind blasted the first wave of snow against the walls. Once inside, Tavener went to Companion's Hall and lit the woodstove. He did the same in the room closest to the main house. Taking one of the blankets for Companions, he hung it next to the stove.

Two candlemarks later, the storm still howled outside as the Gills and their hands sat down to dinner in the kitchen. A voice called out from the yard followed by pounding on the door.

When Tavener opened the door, a blast of wind and snow blew in. A shivering Herald stood outside. "Herald Evine." She introduced herself. "Kerwyn said we might find shelter here."

Quickly, Tavener drew Evine and her Companion into the kitchen, closing the door behind them. Marcia fetched a quilt and wrapped it around Evine. She handed the Herald a steaming mug of kava heavily sweetened with cream and honey while Tavener led Kerwyn to Companion's Hall. The passageway was tight for a Companion, but Tavener did not even consider taking her back through the yard. If there were hoofmarks on the floor, too bad.

Stripping the mare of her tack, Tavener threw the warmed blanket over her. He fetched grain and hay for her while Blane poured boiling water into bran and molasses before mixing it with the grain. Tavener fetched a bucket of hot water for Kerwyn before returning to the kitchen, where Marcia was urging the shivering Evine to eat.

Through chattering teeth, Evine thanked the Gills. Marcia shushed her and bade her eat some hot stew. Blane pulled her boots off and wrapped her feet in felt before fetching a hot brick from beside the fire to place under her feet.

Warmed outside and inside, Evine smiled. "Thank you." She began. Her eyes went unfocused for a moment. "Kerwyn gives her thanks as well."

"I finished my circuit three days ago on the Eastern border. My family lives in Haven and I was hurrying to get home before Midwinter. I'd hoped to make the Three Rivers resupply station tonight despite the storm.

"When it became apparent that we couldn't make it, Kerwyn suggested we come here. Considering the royal treatment she got, I can understand why she was so insistent."

Evine's eyes went unfocussed again as she mindspoke her Companion. Evine snorted. "Kerwyn says she'd rather be with people than a stableful of cavalry horses."

Bleakly, Evine added. "I could feel myself starting to get the cold shakes. I was getting desperate for shelter when we finally saw those lanterns you put out. Even in the storm, I could see them for a league, shining across the fields. I didn't even see the village until we were in it, but there were no lights. Kerwyn said to keep going."

"It's just as well you did stop." Marcia said. "Even by Companion and in good weather, it is another candlemark to Three Rivers from here. You would have had frostbite at the very least."

Evine nodded. "I would have banged on a door in the village if Kerwyn hadn't insisted on coming here. Kerwyn told me who you are, of course, so I knew you would have a suitable place for a Companion.

"Even at the resupply station, I doubt anyone would have thought to bring her hot water." Evine smiled at the family.

"It helps people when they are cold." Tavener shrugged. "Why should it not help a Companion – or even a horse?

"This storm will last at least until tomorrow evening, maybe longer. You had best stay here until it is safe to travel on." He looked concerned. "Is there anyone expecting you in Three Rivers? They might be worried."

"You are right." Evine said. "Do you have a pen and paper?" Marcia fetched them and Evine quickly wrote a note saying where she was and that she was safe, then folded and sealed it.

Before they could ask how she would get it to the Three Rivers resupply station, Evine held it up and focused on it. The note vanished. Marcia and Tavener, who had seen Heralds use the fetching gift before, merely blinked and nodded in comprehension. Blane and the workmen went wide-eyed with astonishment. Evine smiled at Blane. "There, that will let those in Three Rivers know we are safe. No one will have to venture out to search for us."

"I've seen the fetching gift send a note further," Tavener said, "but that is very impressive."

Evine shrugged. "The size and weight matter more than the distance. If Kerwyn gave me a boost, I could fetch a letter to Haven from here, but I would have Kernos' own headache for a week afterwards."

She yawed heavily. "Excuse me, but I seem to be about to fall asleep. I usually don't get tired this early, but I think I will go to bed now." She yawned again.

Tavener smiled. "It's a normal reaction to warming up after being cold for a long time. Go get some sleep. We will see you in the morning."

Evine rose and thanked them. Marcia handed her a hot brick wrapped in cloth to warm her bed.

In the morning, the storm was still raging. Evine and Kerwyn helped Tavener and the hands struggle between the barns to feed and water the stock. The snow was only ankle deep, but the powerful winds made it difficult to stand.

By leaning on the Companion, they were able to keep themselves on their feet, which was much easier than using the ropes and clip rings that Tavener had strung the day before.

Once they were done feeding the livestock, all of them returned to the kitchen, where Marcia and Blane had laid out a hearty breakfast. As the kitchen was the warmest room in the house, Tavener and the workmen dragged one of the mattresses from Companions' Hall for Kerwyn, who joined the group.

By the time they had eaten, weak light came through the window, although the heavy cloud blocked most of the sunlight. Evine kept looking at the door. Tavener smiled. "No, it is not safe to go out and I would not let you go, even for the few candlemarks that it would take to get to Three Rivers."

"But it is only a candlemark from here…" Evine began.

"By Companion, in good weather, that is true." Tavener nodded. "But there will be drifts and the snow will hide the road." Evine looked ready to protest, but Tavener held up his hand. "You said you were coming off your circuit, so you are not on duty. Even if you were on duty, there is no emergency that demands your attention: You would have mentioned it. Therefore, there is no reason to risk going out into the storm. You may get home to Haven a day or two later, but you will get home safely.

"Bide here until the storm blows out. Tomorrow or the day after, you may be on your way."

Evine looked at her Companion, who stared back at her. "Kerwyn agrees with you. Thank you."

They passed most of the day in the kitchen, except for the time caring for the livestock. Evine told stories of her life with Kerwyn, beginning with how the Companion had chosen her in the very kitchen of her parents' bakery in Haven. "I was so covered with flour that I was nearly as white as she was." Evine said, to the chuckles of the group.

As the day wore on, Evine seemed to be thinking something over, often looking at her Companion as the two engaged in silent conversation. Due to their experience with their children and the children's Companions, Tavener and Marcia were used to being bystanders to such discussions. Blane and the workmen were less comfortable and became uneasy when the silences grew long.

After dark, the wind began to die down. By the time dinner was over, stars could be seen through breaks in the clouds.

After the workmen had gone back to their bunkroom, Evine emerged from another long silent conversation with Kerwyn.

"Master and Mistress Gill," she began formally, "I am sure you are aware that Heralds usually stay in waystations while on circuit or inns while they are traveling. Do you know the reason for that?"

Marcia nodded. "It's to avoid the appearance of favor, even if none is given."

"Exactly." Evine agreed. "However, you two are different. You hold the title 'Friends of the Companions', which already makes it plain that the Companions themselves like you.

"Further, with nine children chosen, most people already assume that Heralds would take your side."

Tavener smiled wryly. "Aye. I've run into that from time to time. Because of that, I've made it a point to bend over backwards to settle any dispute. Sometimes, I've conceded points that I could have won because fighting them would not be worth the aggravation. I'd rather not endure listening people say I won because the Heralds were biased in my favor."

Evine looked thoughtful. "That probably has cost you a bit of money."

"Some." Tavener shrugged. "On the other hand, it has given me a reputation of being fair, which helps bring customers my way. I may lose the fight, but I win in the end."

"Don't some people take advantage of that?" Evine asked.

"One or two have done so. They even continue to speak ill of me after we have settled. I simply have told them that I will not deal with them ever again. All of my managers and factors have been given their names and told to refuse their custom at any price."

Evine caught an undertone in Tavener's voice. "There is something more." She prompted.

Tavener grinned. "Many of my competitors have heard the fellows complain of me and my refusal to deal with them. My competitors have had similar bad experiences with the same people, although they have fought their cases and won. Many of my competitors have decided that they like my idea and have taken to refusing the complainers' custom as well. As a result, the people in question can only deal with suppliers who will charge them outrageous prices for inferior goods."

"Ah." Evine said. "Not only does fair dealing have its rewards, poor dealing leads to its own punishment."

Tavener merely grinned wider.

"Returning to my point," Evine said, "you are in a position where you are already assumed to be favored by Heralds, regardless of the truth of the matter. Kerwyn tells me further that you have never been party to any dispute brought before a Herald."

"How would she know that?" Marcia asked.

" 'What one Companion knows, every Companion knows' is a truism among the Heralds." Evine replied. "We've never seen an exception to that. All of them seem to be able to share any knowledge that they require. If you had ever been party to a dispute before a Herald, Kerwyn would be aware of it."

"I have an idea where you are going with this," Tavener said, "but please spell it out."

"When I get back to Haven, I would like to propose to the Circle that your home be designated as a waystation. It is unusual and irregular, but your family and your title already mean that you are subject to the presumption of bias, so that would be unchanged.

"Because it is close the main road south toward Karse and on the Southern Counties Road that runs from Rethwellan to Hardorn, Three Rivers is a very busy stop-over for Heralds. There are already so many Heralds passing through Three Rivers that the Herald quarters there are always overflowing."

She looked at Kerwyn sharply for a moment. "Even as we speak, Kerwyn tells me there are fourteen Heralds and trainees in the station at Three Rivers. The quarters have only four proper bunks; the rest are bunking in the guard barracks. In addition, there are another six who have elected to spend some of their own coin to stay at nearby inns."

"That is a lot of Heralds in one place." Marcia observed.

"Mostly it's trainees on their way home for midwinter break plus a few Heralds like me on the way home from circuit." She grinned wryly. "So the storm that blew me here did me a favor."

Kerwyn snorted. "Kerwyn prefers the arrangement here as well." Evine added.

Tavener and Marcia looked at each other. Marcia nodded. They looked at Blane, who was grinning broadly. "Please?" Blane asked. "Please say yes."

Tavener ruffled the boy's hair. "If the Heraldic Circle is agreeable to this, we will do it. I will give you a letter to take with you to Haven." Privately he thought it would be good for Blane to have more exposure to Heralds, who could keep a watchful eye on his gift – and the gifts of any other orphans Dean Tuck might send their way.

Evine and Kerwyn left before dawn the next morning with the last quarter moon lighting the road. The snow was powdery and only came halfway up Kerwyn's cannon bone in most places. The Companion would have no trouble getting them to Haven before the Midwinter festivities began.

The reply to Evine's proposal came back to Tavener and Marcia along with a dozen Companions and trainees. The Gill children had come home for their Midwinter break bringing seven of their yearmates with them. Six of the other trainees were stopping for the night before going on to their own families who lived further from Haven.

A seventh trainee, Rosten, had been a street urchin in Three Rivers when he was chosen, having been abandoned by his drunkard parents. Ilia had chosen him at the same time as Sarcis had chosen Aireen, the Gill's youngest daughter. The two of them had met on the road to Haven. Aireen had invited her yearmate to join her family for Midwinter.

Dean Tuck wrote that the Heraldic Circle was definitely in favor of the idea, partly because it would ease the crowding in the Heralds' quarters in Three Rivers but also because the accommodations for Companions and Heralds were so much better. It would also allow the Heralds to keep an eye on any emerging gifts among the orphans fostered with Tavener and Marcia.

Dean Tuck was also very firm on one point: The Gills would have to be paid for this service. While their offer to accommodate the Heralds without compensation was appreciated, doing so would cause people to believe that Tavener and Marcia would receive 'special consideration' in other ways. The deal must be strictly "fee for service".

The Midwinter Festivities passed happily. Blane got to know his new brothers and sisters better. During the visit to Haven in the fall, they had been in their classes most of the time. Now they had time for long talks, games of saba and stories at the hearth. On mild days, Blane and Hansal rode out with the trainees, perched behind them on their Companions.

Perhaps because Rosten was a relative outsider, Rosten and Blane seemed especially attached to each other. They had almost nothing else in common. Blane, the beloved son of a wealthy merchant, was horrified when Rosten told Blane how his parents had simply cast him out into the street one night in the fall of his eleventh year.

Begging and the meager charity from the temples had kept Rosten alive through the winter and into the next summer. Just before dawn two days after Midsummer, Ilia had nudged him awake where he huddled in an alleyway.

Rosten had a very strange gift, related to projective empathy, but nobody really understood what it was. He could repress strong emotion. If people were fighting or arguing, Rosten could calm them without a word. If someone was giddy with excitement, his gift would sober them. Unlike a projective empath, though, Rosten could not raise emotions. Jamis called it "The Gift of Peace."

All of the trainees took an interest in helping Blane and Hansal with their weaponswork. Jamis had new exercises from Odo and Werner. The trainees also began to teach the boys about Valdemaran history, using books from Tavener's library and telling stories learned from their courses in the Collegium. Widrin and Jamis were careful just to tell the most interesting parts of the history – enough to pique the boys' interest without boring them - while letting them know where they could find out more about the events if they wanted.

Hansal helped them practice Karsite by telling them Karsite legends. To the trainees, the strangest tale was of the Firecats, who came to help and guide and protect the Sons of the Sun in Ancient times.

Payne opened his mouth to make a scornful comment when Hansal told of the Firecat who had turned a would-be assassin into a living torch. Before Payne could speak, Endron spoke in Payne's mind. _:The story is true. Firecats are as real as Companions.:_

Payne looked sharply at his Companion. The stallion nodded to confirm what he had said.

Payne turned back to Hansal. In badly accented Karsite he said. "I apologize for doubting you Hansal."

Abruptly, Payne's face took on a distant look, as though he were in a trance. In a deep voice and with the purest Karsite, Payne spoke "'_When the Firecats return, the Son of the Sun who is no one's Son will be heard in the Great Temple. You shall know the time is at hand when the White Rider of the Prophecy guards the Heir of Valdemar.'"_

Payne blinked and looked around. The others were staring at him open mouthed. Hansal made the Sun-sign. Even the Companions were staring at him, their heads raised and their ears pricked forward. "Did I say something?" he asked.

Widrin shook herself. "Herald Pol said you had foresight, Payne, but that was frightening." The others nodded agreement.

Payne professed ignorance of what he had said. The Companions confirmed to their Chosen that Payne seemed to have been possessed by _something, _

Jamis spoke for the trainees. "I don't know what happened Payne, but I am going to make sure the Chronicler makes a record of this. I think you have just been a channel for a Prophecy. A very, very important Prophecy."

…

According to their custom, the Gills observed Midwinter Eve by keeping vigil around the fireplace. All lights were put out at sunset and the family fasted until midnight. Only a small hearth fire in Companions' Hall warmed them as they huddled in blankets and sipped hot water to keep from freezing.

The Companions lay in a semicircle just behind the family. From time to time, their Chosen would reach back to stroke them.

Shortly before midnight, Tavener smothered the hearth fire.

In the darkness and silence, Tavener spoke a prayer for Janika. Jamis spoke for her Companion Pearin. Blane spoke for his parents. To everyone's surprise, Rosten also spoke a prayer for his parents. The group fell silent, listening to the stillness. There was not even a breath of wind to be heard.

Tavener went out into the yard. When the Red Star aligned with the weathervane, he picked up a large hammer. Earlier in the day, he had hung a heavy iron bar in the yard. He struck it three times. The sound reverberated through the house and out into the night. Moments later, the family could hear the sound of pots banging together from the village.

As Tavener returned to the house, Marcia struck the flint. Sparks flew to the ball of lint. Everyone jumped as the lint blazed up immediately, spreading quickly to the wood shavings underneath. Marcia quickly lit a candle before thrusting the pan with the shavings into the kindling in the fireplace.

As Marcia passed her candle to Tavener she spoke the ritual invocation. "May the fire warm your body; may the light guide your way; may the spark inspire your soul."

Tavener lit his candle and passed it to Jamis, repeating the invocation.

Each of the members of the family followed the ritual. When it reached Aireen, she passed her candle to Rosten who, in turn, passed his to Blane. Blane gave his to Daffyd, who passed his to Marcia, completing the circle.

The fire was now blazing merrily and Tavener lit the woodstove.

"I've never seen the flame catch that quickly!" Aireen piped up.

Jamis, who was looking at Blane intently, said. "I think our newest brother had something to do with that." Deliberately keeping his voice casual, he asked Blane "Did you feel something when the lint caught, Blane? A sort of twinge behind your eyes?"

Blane looked nervous. "Y-yes." He stammered. "I – I was just wishing the sparks to catch."

Realizing that his foster-brother needed reassurance, Jamis smiled at him. "That's wonderful, Blane. You may have a bit of the firestarting gift. It's very rare and valuable. Wid and I will try and give you some basic lessons in handling it before we leave. But you must promise only to practice it when there is a Herald or a Trainee who has completed gift training to guide you."

Prompted by their Companions, the others also congratulated Blane. They had all had some gift training and knew it was important that Blane not fear his gift.

Blane blushed and stammered. "I – I did – I didn't know."

Widrin smiled reassuringly. "That's how gifts usually begin to manifest – when we are concentrating on something associated with your gift. If you have the firestarting gift, thinking about the spark catching would help it come out.

"That's all for tomorrow, however. We've got a midwinter celebration to enjoy."

Marcia and Tavener brought out sausages, bread and cheese to toast on the fire. Jamis filled a pitcher with light ale and thrust a hot poker in to warm it before filling cups for all.

Widrin made a hot bran mash, sweetened with molasses and laced with apples, for the Companions so that they could join in the celebration.

Jamis began a drinking song popular in the Collegium and the others picked it up. After that, the others took turns leading songs.

Blane sang a Hardornen midwinter song about a lost traveler who called on the stars to guide him. In the song, the Pole Star appeared in the form of a white lady to lead him to shelter. The trainees knew enough Hardornen to join in the chorus. ("Follow me winter lover and I will lead you home. / I follow you, White Spirit, I will find my home with thee.")

They played a few games, including an impromptu game of "Companion Leaping" where the trainees and Blane tried to jump over the Companions lying on their mattresses in quick succession. The Companions tried to catch the youngsters' clothing with their teeth and trip them so they fell sprawling over the Companions' broad backs.

Only Payne was nimble enough to complete the 'obstacle course' without either falling or being tripped up by the Companions themselves. In honor of this, Payne was named "Midwinter King". When Billy Malker knocked on their door to summon the family to join the villagers for the sunrise, Payne led the procession mounted on Endron's bare back.

Every member of the family carried a log or bundle of wood down to the village square, where an enormous stack waited. Once the last of the villagers had piled their wood on the stack, everyone threw their torches on the pile, which quickly blazed up in a huge bonfire.

Marcia was pleased to note that the Austrebons had finally overcome their fear of the night and joined the village for the sunrise fire. She spotted Heike – who had ridden pillion behind Jamis on the trip from Haven – between her parents. Marcia guessed that the young bard had been able to persuade her parents that the Valdemaran night held no terrors.

Jamis joined Heike almost immediately and the two enjoyed the celebration hand-in-hand.

Blane and Hansal joined a group of children their own age, chasing one another through the crowd in a game of tag. The game stopped from time to time as the children snatched a treat or hot beverage, then all were off again.

The night was clear and very cold. All were thoroughly chilled when the sun finally poked over Midwinter Hill to end the celebration. (Marcia noticed the Austrebons making their prayers to the rising sun on one side of the crowd.)

Marcia led the family back to the house and to bed while Tavener, Harald Blackthorne and Marak Blessing – the village blacksmith – stayed to do a quick search of the village streets to ensure no one had become drunk and fallen asleep in the snow. The Companions also stayed to help the search.

Marcia placed the goose in the oven to begin roasting for the evening feast before retiring to her own bed.


End file.
